Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale
by Aria Elan
Summary: Poor Bulma! She'd like to get married, but there are no suitable men around. What's a girl to do? Why, go on a Prince Quest, of course! AU, B/V. Chapter 11's up.
1. Where's My Prince?

Disclaimer:  I neither own nor make any money from Dragonball, though I wish I did.  

Pairing: B/V

Warnings:  AU, Fairy Tale, weird humor, violence, citrus or semi-lemon later

Rating: R for some mature content – I tend to err on the side of caution when rating stories, just in case.

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 1: Where's My Prince?

Not so long ago, but very far away, in a world both medieval and modern, there once lived a girl of prodigious beauty.  Her hair was a shining aqua waterfall, and her eyes sparkled like the rarest of blue crystals.  The appellation of this paragon of pulchritude?  Bulma-the-Beautiful Briefs.  The name has a delightful ring, does it not?  However, it's a bit lengthy, so from now on she will be referred to by her family nickname, Bulma.  One would have thought that this lovely being would have had few difficulties in life, but alas, this was untrue.  In a land where the average age of marriage was nineteen, Bulma was considered veritably ancient to have remained yet unwed at twenty-five.  

Why, then, was this beauteous wonder still a maiden?  Come with me, Dear Readers, and we shall take a closer look:

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"Father!  I won't have it!  I won't!  Why must you insist on trying to match me up with idiots!"  Bulma stomped her feet, tossed her head, and glared at the man behind the laboratory desk.

"You look like an angry filly, daughter," replied the esteemed Doctor Lord Briefs, peering at her through a pair of binoculars he had been testing.

"Well, and so would you look, if **you** had to deal with the prospect of being wed to one of those drooling, slobbering, brainless...*marshmallows!*  Surely you think more of me than *that!*"

The doctor humphed.  There simply weren't any men in the land of Oolongate who were a proper match for his fiery-tempered offspring.  The ones who weren't married were either unable to handle his daughter's sharp tongue, or they worshipped her to such an extent that she couldn't bear it, and all but ran howling from the hapless adoring souls.

While her father thought, Bulma stormed around the room, merely because it made her feel better. 

"Eureka!"  Doctor Lord Briefs finally said, after he'd finished chewing on a clove cigar.  "I know where you can find the perfect husband!"

"Where - the polar icecaps?  Men have come to court me from far and wide, hither and yon.  Princes, wealthy merchants, actors, and traders, yea, males of all descriptions and ranks - and you think there are any left?"  The beauty pouted, and leaned dramatically against a wall.

"Well, it's true we've exhausted the resources in Oolongate and Laetritia, Garvil and Wemoslay, Bartak, and Korayn..."

"Enough, Father!  I get the idea.  So where is this 'perfect husband?'  Science would have it that there's no such thing."

"Would you settle for handsome, physically strong, highly intelligent, and unbelievably wealthy?  I've calculated each variable to be worth a minimum of twenty percent on the Eligible Male Scale."  The doctor picked up another cigar.  His daughter always made him nervous when she got that scheming look upon her face.

"It sounds too good to be true.  What's wrong with him?" Bulma fiddled with the opalescent curtain her mother had insisted on placing in the otherwise austere laboratory.

"I've never met him.  But he **is** a prince, and is rumored to be quite appealing to females, in a harsh sort of way."

"Where is he located, and why have I never heard of him?"  

"If you had bothered to read the last issue of "Great Catches: Special Edition - Eligible Bachelors Outside the Norm," you wouldn't have needed to ask that question."

"I never even saw it - and what are **you** doing subscribing to a glamour magazine like that?"

The doctor blushed to the roots of his graying hair.  "It's your mother's.  I don't know why, but she likes to look at the young men."

Bulma rolled her wide blue eyes, and flounced over to sit in the chair opposite her paternal unit.  "Please, Father, **do** tell me about this handsome prince, and exactly **why** he's featured in a Special Edition about eligible bachelors outside the norm."

"Er.  It seems that he's a...well, a shapeshifter."

"Excuse me?!!  I didn't know any shapeshifters still existed in the Seventeen Kingdoms.  I thought they were all chased away by the Bad Breath of Glagr, Ogre of Killium, in the dark days before I was born." 

The doctor picked up a pipe cleaner and began twisting it in some agitation.  "Yes, that's true, most of the Changing Ones left, and I don't blame them.  I met Glagr once, and you were indeed fortunate to have been born after that traumatic experience.  Hmmm, do you recollect the time twenty years ago when there was that hullabaloo about the Strong Men?  They came from space in their small ships, fleeing an evil tyrant, and landed outside the Forest of Misbehavior.  They attempted to take over the world, but were foiled by Brave King Tenshinhan.  He forced them to sign a treaty by beating their King at cribbage, and in the end, made allies of the ferocious were-monkeys.  Oops."  The doctor shut his mouth, too late.  Bulma wasn't going to like that, and just when he was hoping he could get her safely married off to a man who, by all reports, was an equal match for her.  What did it matter that he had a tail, or that other small problem?

"Yes, I remember that, well, a little, anyway.  Those 'Strong Men' turned into big hairy apes!   And…a were-monkey?  You think I would want to be wed to a were-monkey?  How could you?  It sounds icky, even if he is rich.  And is **that** what it's come down to for me, the wealthiest girl in the world?  To be forced to marry someone who's not even human?" Bulma shuddered, tossed her aqua hair again, and frowned at the doctor.

"Do you see any other choices?  In fact, if you want him for yourself, you would probably need to start out almost immediately.  That issue will be on the newsstands any day now."

"Start out?  Where?  Why can't he come to me?  I thought the prince always came to the gorgeous damsel, and not t'other way around."

"You must travel to the Forest of Misbehavior, in the Kingdom of Vegetable.  As for why he can't come to you, I'm afraid he probably doesn't know you exist.  No, you're going to have to go on a quest to win the heart of the fierce Prince of the Vegetables." *_And then I can work on that line of self-inflating blow-up dolls Hermit Roshi of the Turtle Island has been wanting, in peace.*_

Bulma spluttered,  "Not know I exist?  He must be culturally deprived.  But, Father, why is Vegetable the name of the home of the icky were-monkeys?  That doesn't make any sense!  And I can't go on a quest by myself.  I've never been further than the market on my own before.  I've heard there are trolls, and perverted dwarfs, and all manner of terrible evils lurking in the bushes, ready to menace a pretty girl like myself."

Doctor Lord Briefs shook his head.  The pipe cleaner was completely shredded by now.  "I don't know the answer to your question; you'll have to ask the Vegetables when you get there.  Of course you can go on a quest by yourself, dear.   It's how these things are done.  You're old enough to know what to avoid and what not to.  Additionally, you'll have all the technology the Laboratory can provide, save for the air cars.  I'm afraid every one of them ended up in the shop this week.  Your cousin Bluechin was playing dodgecar with The Lord of Lightening again." 

"Ooh, he's going to be very, very, **very **sorry when next I see him!  Well, I don't seem to have a bit of choice if I want to have a decent husband - but you had better be right about this prince being handsome, rich, intelligent, and strong, or I'll wreck those blow-up doll prototypes you've been slaving on when I return."

The doctor shuddered.  Where had he and Clytemenestra gone wrong with their daughter?  She had been such a sweet and humble child, once upon a time.

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Hello, it's Timaeus the Glib, your jovial narrator.  Please stay tuned for the beginning of Bulma's adventures on the way to meet her Prince Uncharming.  Until then, adieu, and a hand-kiss for all the pretty ladies in the audience.

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	2. Of Chance Meetings, and Endless Appetite...

A/N:  I'm sorry it took me so long to update.  (Kicks uncooperative RL)  Thank you very much for the great reviews! ^__^

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 2: Of Chance Meetings, and Endless Appetites

Welcome once again, Kindly Readers!  I bow before you, thanking you for your tolerance of such an unworthy Narrator as my somewhat handsome self.  The beautiful Bulma has now begun her exciting and dramatic adventure.  Well, perhaps it is not so exciting and dramatic as all that for the moment, but at least it is an adventure, of a sort.  Let us then hasten to the scene with all urgency.

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Bulma adjusted her knapsack.  She had been pedaling her bicycle for the better part of an hour, said vehicle being the only mode of transportation available that the thoughtless Bluechin hadn't wrecked, and had just passed the limits of the rather tiny Kingdom of Oolongate.   She looked at her combination chronometer/speedometer/compass/map.  Spargate.  **Only** 330 miles to go until she reached Vegetable.  It would take her a week, at this rate, unless she used the special engine modification that changed the bike into a flying conveyance.  However, she wasn't all that fond of heights, so that would be a choice for later.  She hoped that there weren't ravening hordes of eligible women who lived closer to the prince's kingdom who would get to him first.  But then again, probably not everyone would be interested in a bachelor who turned into a great ape when the moon was full.  She still wasn't sure why she was, come to think of it. "This is so tedious!" she announced, as she rode down the nicely paved road, looking back and forth at the uniformly perfect lines of birch trees that flanked her on either side, because there wasn't much else to admire in the view.

"What's tedious, Miss Lady with the weird colored hair?"

Bulma almost fell off her bicycle in skidding to a stop, as a man she hadn't managed to notice arose from the road in front of her.  "What kind of an idiot are you?!" she yelled, her famous temper coming to the forefront.  "I could have killed you!   You could have seriously damaged my incredible good looks!  And how dare you insult my hair, are you sight-impaired?  Men have raved over its glory for years.  As have women, and children.  **Everyone** loves my hair.  Yeesh.  What a clod.  Anyway, who are you to talk, **your** hair sticks out all over the place," she added, as she glared at the young man whose black locks did, indeed, have a knack for going in many different directions at once.

"Oh.  I guess it does at that," he replied with a shrug, "but I don't think that it makes me a clod just because you weren't watching where you were going.  You wouldn't have killed me with that, maybe given me a few bruises at most, and I could have jumped out of the way easily enough.   So, what's tedious, Miss Lady?"  

She frowned at him.  He was definitely a clod, but there was no point in arguing with him about it.  She had places to be.  "This road.  It seems to go on forever.  There's absolutely no traffic on it this morning.  Everyone else has aircars, and there have been precious few of those overhead, either."

The young man scratched his head.  "Well, I'm here, Miss Lady."

"Yes, but I'll be leaving you behind momentarily.  I don't know why you were hanging about in the middle of the road, in any case."  She stared at him, noting the pack straps hanging over his broad shoulders.  "I see.  You must be going somewhere as well."

"Uh huh.  I am.  I was looking for signs of my wife.  She left me, and took our son.  She was really mad this time.  I don't know why it is, but she doesn't seem to like me fighting for a living.  She's the best cook ever, and I really miss her.  She even left me a note, but she always writes in her native language when she gets mad at me, instead of in Common Standard, so I don't know what it says.  Can you read Fry-Panian?"  

Bulma smirked, while wondering how the goofy fellow thought he was going to find his wife by lying face down on blacktop.  "Of course I can read it, I have attained native fluency in twenty-seven languages.  Do you have the note?  Give it to me, and I'll tell you what it says."

The black-haired man dug in his pack, and handed her a dog-eared piece of paper.

The genius from the Capsule Laboratory viewed the much-folded note with some trepidation.  _It's dirty, but he looks clean enough.  I hope he doesn't have germs_.  She looked at the writing on the paper.  Bold, slashing letters with fancy curlicues made up words that read, "Daear Goku, all you ever do is go from one arm-wrestelling and martialle arts tournamentte to the next.  Is that all there is in lyfe? I am tyred of it.  Gohan and I are going suhmwaere we will be appriciatede.  Love, Chi-Chi."  _Hmmm,_ _quite the creative spelling,_ Bulma thought.  _Oh, well.  Fry-Panians aren't exactly known for their literacy_.  She repeated the contents of the note to the man she now assumed was named Goku, and then handed it back to him.  He drooped like a Spiny Varklaus flower at dusk, and then straightened back up again, with a fierce expression on his face.

"Thanks, Miss Lady.  I guess I should be on my way.  I'm going to find my Chi-Chi, and my Gohan, and let them know I'll never leave them again, well, at least not until a really good fight comes along." 

Bulma noted as she watched him that the young man had an honest, direct quality about him that might have interested even her, if he hadn't been already married, and wasn't a backwoods sort, and didn't go around lying down in the middle of roads.  He was quite well built also; it was evident that training to fight had done exceptionally nice things for his physique.  "Good luck," she said, and began to pedal her bike again, expecting that he would be going in the opposite direction, since that was the way he had been facing when she'd almost hit him.

But Goku stepped forward next to her, easily keeping up with her pace.  "So where are you off to?" he asked.  "It looks like we're both headed this way.  If so, why don't we travel together?"

"How can you walk so fast?"

"I don't know, I just can.  I'm pretty strong, too.  It's how I made a good living for our family."

"I see.  Well, since you're a strange man, and I mean that in both senses, I shouldn't tell you anything, so I won't.  But if you want to walk by me for a while, that'll be all right.  Just don't try to attack me, or I'll burst your eardrums with my screams."

"Why would I want to attack you?  You seem nice, even if your hair is a little strange."

"My hair is not strange!  People have all manner of hair colors in Oolongate, as do they elsewhere in the world, for that matter.  And of course, I'm nice.  I'm one of the nicest ladies you'll ever meet, as well as the prettiest."  Bulma smiled at him, and tossed her hair just a bit.

Goku pondered her statement.  "Really?  I guess I'm just used to Chi-Chi.   She's nice, but when she gets mad she has a way with a frying pan.  She took the pan, too.  I even miss her hitting me with it.  Well, no, actually I don't, because it hurt, but I miss her almost that much."  

Bulma shook her head.  This guy was definitely short a few synapses.  Maybe the dangerous sounding Chi-Chi had hit him on the head one too many times.  She reached in her pocket for the Exploding Nerve-Numbing Gas Capsule her father had given her, just in case.

They moved onward for a brief time, wrapped in a comfortable silence, and then there came a loud, rumbling gurgle from Goku's direction, and the young man spoke.  "Miss Lady?  Do you have anything to eat?  I ate breakfast, but that was over an hour ago."

"Didn't you bring any food with you?  That's not a wise idea when you're going on a trip."

"No, there wasn't anything left in the house.  I could go hunting, but I thought I'd ask you first.  You look like the kind of person who would bring lots of goodies with you when you travel.  Also, if you've got food, I don't have to waste any time chasing big flying lizards when I could be looking for Chi-Chi and Gohan."

The young woman rolled her eyes.  What a rustic – eating flying lizards, indeed.  This was turning out to be an odd quest so far, and it had barely even begun.  Very well, she'd feed the wild animal.  She stopped the bicycle, and opening her pack, took out a bag of Weval the Dwarf's High Quality Energy Snacks.  "Here you go, Goku.  You are Goku, correct?"  At his nod, she continued.  "You may call me Miss Bulma, since we're going to be traveling together for the nonce.  No, don't eat those all at once, they're meant to last for several hours each."

Goku shook his head.  "I'm still hungry, Miss Lady, err, Miss Bulma."

"Oh, all right - here!"  She stopped the bicycle, handed him a double-decker cheese sandwich from her pack, and retrieved the remains of the bag of energy snacks.

The man with the unruly hair ate the sandwich, and looked expectantly at her.  "Wow, that was great, Miss Bulma!  Have you got any more?"

Bulma was horrified.  "You already ate enough for six people!  How can you be hungry?"

Goku eyed her knapsack in a puppyish manner.  "I'm always hungry."

*It's lucky I brought enough encapsulated supplies to last me for months,* Bulma said to herself.  She gave him the energy snacks again.  "Eat slowly!" she told him.

"Thank you!"  Goku grinned, and started to demolish the food with loud crunches.

The blue-haired beauty shook her head, dazed, thinking that she'd never seen anyone who ate so much in all her life, and started on her way down the road once more, her new companion striding beside her.

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Welcome back to Timaeus the Glib's Chapter Closing Paragraph, Kind Readers.   For those of you expecting danger, action, and romance, it is my pleasure to let you know that it shall most assuredly be forthcoming in later chapters of our tale.  This humble effort on the author's part served merely as a character introduction.  And so, good even, and may the moon shine peacefully upon you all.

(A dark cloaked figure appears next to Timaeus, its mien menacing)  "Ahem!"

Timaeus (startled):  "Prince Vegeta!  What are you doing here?"

Prince Vegeta: "Is it not true that I am the 'hero' of the story?  Why, then, has there been no chapter featuring me in all my magnificence as of yet?"

Timaeus: "I'm sorry, we aren't scheduled to meet you until Chapter 4, but if you would like, I suppose I could break into Chapter 3 to narrate a brief scene in which you are brushing your teeth and dreaming of the woman you know you will love more than life itself, but I think it will ruin the flow of the tale."

Prince Vegeta: "What?  Love more than life itself?  What sort of garbage is that?  No, never mind.  Those who admire, fear, and worship the mightiest prince of them all will be willing to wait until Chapter 4 to glimpse me, and there had better be none of that ridiculous romantic spouting coming from my lips at any time. It's completely alien to my alien nature.  Hn!"  (Prince Vegeta disappears, black cloak swirling, while Timaeus sweatdrops)

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	3. The Troll Game

A/N:  Thank you for the reviews!  I'm glad to know people are reading!  ^_^

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 3: The Troll Game

Greetings, Cheerful Readers.  In our last chapter, Bulma had just met up with the strange, starving Spargatian, Goku, who was looking for his runaway family.  

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Bulma yawned.  They'd been traveling along for two and a half hours, conversing merrily, and she was starting to get a little hungry.  They'd taken a couple of short rest breaks, mainly for her benefit, not for Goku's, since he seemed to have the energy of ten men, but she hadn't eaten much at those times. "Goku, I need to stop for lunch," she said to her companion.

He perked up instantly.  "Do you have any more of those energy snacks?  They were really tasty."

The young woman heaved a soft, exasperated sigh.  "Yes, but they aren't in a position where I can get to them easily.  You can have something else.  I brought lots of  "goodies," as you call them.  Oh, look, what a pretty bridge."  She glanced at her catchall time, speed, and distance device.  "Yes, as I surmised, it's the border between Spargate and Panchan.  We can have lunch after we cross it. There are even two nice big tree stumps on the other side, perfect for us to sit on."  She pedaled in that direction, Goku following with a big grin on his face.

They had no sooner reached the lovely white stone bridge when from beneath their feet came a mighty roar.  "Ware, trespassers on the mercy of the - cough, hack, cough, the Abominable Troll!"

"Eek!  Help!" Bulma shrieked, dropping the bicycle, and running to hide behind Goku, her face a mask of fear.

"Where is it?" Goku wondered, craning his neck to look.

"Retreat now, or be prepared to pay a deadly toll!" the deep, gruff voice added. 

"I'm sorry, Mister Troll, but we've really got to cross this bridge.  My wife ran away, and I need to find her.  She went this way," the spiky-haired Spargatian told the anonymous terror.  

Bulma reached in her pocket, making sure to free up her Exploding Nerve-Numbing Gas Capsule.

"Why should I care about your wife, foolish mortal?  Leave, and I'll spare your lives.  Stay, and you'll have to answer a really stupid riddle."

The lines of tension on Bulma's face smoothed out.  "A riddle, huh?  I can answer any riddle put to me - especially a *stupid* riddle!  Ask away, O Scary Troll!"

The owner of the voice growled.  "I didn't think it was going to come down to this, but you asked for it.  Remember that you could have walked away, and don't blame me later when your brains have imploded.  Very well; what is black…n…white…n…rd all over?" it said in a rush.

Bulma relaxed, though she did appear a trifle queasy.  "Ooh, a trick question – but still quite simple.  Your deliberate choice to slur the vowels in n and rd leads me to believe that the sentence would have been 'What is black on white and read all over,' in its complete form," she said.  Goku merely looked puzzled.  "So, the answer has to be Mad Emperor Pilaf's 'Rule the World Chronicles.'  Everyone reads them.  He's a terrible author, though, most megalomanical types are.  I still don't understand how he manages to sell his work.  No wonder you said our brains would implode over this riddle.  It was close, but I did manage to survive, and I don't think Goku knew what you were talking about, so he was safe.  Whew.  You know, I thought you were going to ask me the Sphinx Question, but I'm glad you didn't.  It's so overdone."

"Gnar!  Gnash!  Curses!  You are right.  You are smarter than I thought, Human with the strangely colored hair.  The Sphinx Question is, of course, the default question, but only because it is in the generic Answer a Riddle or Die script given to all None Shall Pass Guardians.  I knew for certain you would answer that one, however, as you are obviously a Heroine Type on a quest, and all questers of your ilk automatically come up with the correct reply, Man.  Therefore, I thought I would try to cause havoc to your brain cells with an offering of utter stupidity instead."

"Well, you didn't count on me being a genius, did you?  So there!  And really, what is it with you foreigners and your backward impressions of my beautiful tresses?  You must be a total relic - nobody actually says words like 'Gnar' and 'Gnash' out loud.  Anyway, how can you see my hair?  You're under the bridge!"  Bulma stared angrily at the object under discussion.

"Actually, I have been throwing my voice.  I am right above you, puny Human who would be wise to stop criticizing those who are much more powerful than she is." 

The Beauteous One jumped, and both she and Goku looked up.  "Eeeeeeee," she screamed, "it's **not** a Troll; it's a Demon!"

"Wow," said Goku.  "I've never met a real Demon before.  Hi, Mister Demon.  Why are you pretending to be a Troll?"

An extremely tall green, fanged being descended from the sky with great majesty, his white cape gently billowing in the breeze.  "Because The Abominable Troll needed a vacation, and I owed her a favor.  It has been the most boring week I have ever spent.  I would far rather be out killing tiresome Humans than reading typical Troll Guardian commentary from a trite script."

Goku scratched his head.  "I'm really sorry that guarding the bridge isn't very interesting, but you know it isn't nice to kill others, unless they hurt your family, and then it's okay, but only if they refuse to change their evil ways."

The Demon's jaw dropped.   The phrase, "Who is this weirdo?" was writ large upon his features, yea, verily.  "I could kill you in an instant, fool," he said, baring those fearsome fangs of his at them.

"I don't think so.  I'm very strong.  My grandfather used to say I was the strongest boy he knew, before he was killed by a big, terrifying monster.  I've won tournaments against Humans and non-Humans, too.  I can take you easily, so bring it on!"  Goku clenched his fists, and moved into a defensive stance.

"What manner of slang is this?" the Demon asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

Bulma decided she'd better break up this little brouhaha before it got started.  Or maybe it would be better to leave them to fight it out, and keep going.  No, she had been enjoying the company of the lad from Spargate, even if he did have terrible dining habits, and an accent that was more countrified than the hillfolk of Upper Tao-Pi-Pi.  Besides, since he was a fighter, he could protect her from any more dangers they might encounter.  She hoped.

"It's Spargatian fighting talk.  I studied it at university," she told the ferny-hued Demon.  "But if either of you even think about battling, I'll scream so loud it'll shatter your eardrums.  I know Demons have extra-sensitive hearing, and I've observed during our journey that the same is true for Goku over there.  So, stop it right this minute, and be friends!"

"Friends!" roared the Demon.  "My kind have no **friends**, and especially not weak and weak-minded Human-types.  Ever since my sire, The Great Emperor of Demons, was defeated at the game of bridge by That Most Puissant and Evil of Kings, Tenshinhan, he has cowered in a cave at the top of The-Mountain-That-Used-To-Be-Called-Fry-Pan. I will not suffer the same fate by getting close to Humans!"

"Why would he cower?" Bulma asked.  "Everyone knows Brave, **Good** King Tenshinhan is a master of all card games.  There's no shame in losing to him."

"Alas, you do not know my sire.  He simply cannot lose.  He **will** not lose.  It put a giant hole in his self-esteem.  So, he has been in that cave for four years, practicing playing bridge with a family of dragons."  The Demon shook his head in dismay.  "I wot he will still lose to the **Evil** King when he returns to the battle arena, however."

Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, and was about to defend the High King's basic level of goodness again, when Goku interrupted.

"I'll be happy to be your friend, Mister Demon.  My name's Son Goku, but you can call me Goku!"

The imposing green personage winced.  "My name is Piccolo the Younger, Prince of all Demonkind.  You may call me Piccolo the Younger, if you will call me it from a far distance, as you walk across the bridge and take leave of my presence."

"Pickle-o, that's an interesting name," Goku said.  "I like people who are named after food."

"A piccolo is a musical instrument, silly!" Bulma said, smiling behind her hand as Piccolo the Younger glowered.

"Oh, okay.  I thought that since he was green, maybe he was a Pickle Demon.  Hey, Piccolo the Younger, I've got an idea that would take care of your boredom!"

"And what would that be?" the Demon asked in a fiery voice, his ego somewhat punctured from being compared to a pickled cucumber.

"If you haven't got anything better to do, why don't you travel with us for a while?"

"Whaaat?"  Bulma glared at Goku.  Now, there was a lovely idea indeed, inviting a murderous Demon along.

"Aw, c'mon, Miss Bulma, it'd be fun!  And besides that, well, do you ever have 'feelings'?"

"Of course I have feelings!" she hissed.  "Don't be dumber than you can help!  And right now, my '**feelings**' say that this is one ultra-scary green guy who doesn't like us very much."

"No, I mean the kind of feeling you get when you know you should be doing something but you don't know why you should be doing it, like getting the urge to move away from a building you've been leaning against, and right after you've moved, a piano falls and hits the ground exactly where you would have been standing."

"Oh.  Well.  Yes.  Sometimes.  Are you saying you are having one of these 'feelings' that the ultra-scary green guy should go with us, then?"

"Uh huh.  I don't know why, but I know he's going to help both of us somehow."

Bulma thought about it for a minute, while Piccolo the Younger stood baring his fangs again.  She didn't think he looked like a good matchmaker, so how could he possibly be of any assistance to her?  But for some reason, she had truly come to trust Goku in the short time they'd been traveling together.  There was no artifice to him, and as odd as he was, she "knew" he was a friend to her.   If he thought it was important that the Demon accompany them, so be it.  "Very well," she grumbled.

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Thank you for returning to my Chapter Closing Paragraph.  What will Piccolo say to Goku's proposition?  Will Bulma have yet another unusual companion on the road to Vegetable?  And, speaking of Vegetables, what will Bulma's Handsome Prince be like?  We'll finally find out in Chapter 4.  Take care, Timaeus.

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	4. Princess Imminent

A/N:  I don't own them.  I never will.  I wish I did. (sighs sadly)  Sorry for the very short chapter – it just worked out that way. 

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 4:  Princess Imminent

Welcome, welcome, Faithful Readers.  When last I, Timaeus the Glib, left you, Bulma and Goku were making friends with the frightening demon Piccolo.  We'll leave our intrepid questers at the bridge for a time, and see what is happening with the other half of the as yet unresolved romantic duet - Prince Vegeta.

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"Radditz!  What have you done with the Book?"  A short but beautifully proportioned man came into the antechamber, causing the tall, very longhaired fellow he was addressing to give a start.

"My Prince, I returned it to the locked cabinet.  I believe your father has since borrowed it."

The prince scowled, placing one white-gloved hand on a black spandex clad hip.  "Well, go and retrieve it from him then, laggard.  I need it more than he does."

Radditz bowed.  "I will do my best."  He left the room.  Prince Vegeta was in one of his "If you don't do what I say when I say it I'll break furniture over your head" moods again, probably brought on by that recurring nightmare about the Human who was to be a major part of his future life.  Not that the prince had confided his dream experiences to any members of his Personal Guard, but Radditz wasn't a complete fool, and it was his job to notice such details.  So, it was not unnatural that the warrior/sometime butler/sometime valet much preferred facing the possible wrath of King Vegeta to the certain wrath of his only son.  He was one of a multitude of citizens who thought it unfair that their Prince should have had to wait until he was twenty-six to mate, with his only choice being a weak-blooded Human, but all of the kingdom's inhabitants had seen what had happened when their royal family tried to swim against the streams of fate and prophecy before.  There was always a negative result.  Always.  In recent years, three Elite warrior females had suffered freak accidents along with the prince when he had attempted to circumvent the Prophecy and not wait to mate with the Blue-Haired Woman.  Luckily, none of these were fatal.  He turned the corner to the King's Audience Room, and knocked on the door.

Back in his suite of rooms, Prince Vegeta paced and railed in silence.  _I am sick of having that same stupid dream about that odd-haired Human!  Once a month for the past eight months she's come into my bedchamber and yelled at me, and then tried to resuscitate me by putting her mouth on mine when I was not even unconscious – Humans are truly bizarre beyond comprehension.  The hell with the Prophecy – she doesn't seem like anyone I'd want to spend a minute with, let alone be mated to for a lifetime.  I am the Prince, pureblooded and Elite.  If I must have a mate at all, I deserve a high-ranking female of my own race.  Why does the Book insist that I shall have no one but her, whoever she is?  I will allow_ _that she is attractive, in a pale, foreign, curvy, sexy way, but she looks feeble.  I'd break her with a touch._  He stopped at a window and gazed down into the courtyard.  Young fighters were training; he grinned with malicious enjoyment as he watched one small girl knock a particularly arrogant little snip on his hindquarters.  The boy rose, rubbing his tail, and dove back at her.  They traded blows back and forth, with varying degrees of skill and success, unaware of their exalted audience.  This scene entertained Prince Vegeta mightily, until he noted the presence of Radditz's ki in the antechamber once again.

He turned back to face the door.  "Enter," he said to the lower-status warrior.

Radditz bowed, and did as instructed.  "Here, my Lord."  He proffered a huge red covered volume to the prince, who took it to the massive oak worktable nearby, and set it down carefully.

"That will be all," the prince told him.  Radditz bowed again, and retreated out the door, and out of the chapter.

Prince Vegeta sat down in the comfortably upholstered chair, and opened the Book of Prophecies, Possibilities, and Ponderous Utterances to Page 733.  The Book had added another hundred or so pages since the last time he'd looked at it, all contained in the same space as before.  It either wrote itself, or the ghost of the Mad Prophet Cillantro-Jicama continued to write it, long after his untimely death from an unexpected allergy to Sassafras Pudding.  The prince never knew which page his particular Prophecies would be on each time; he merely opened it to a random page, and there they were.  He peered at Page 733.  Sometimes the wording of the Prophecies had been known to change, as well.  Today the entry read:

Salutations, O Unwise Prince of the Land of Vegetable.  If you haven't figured it out by now, lummox, you should be preparing for the imminent arrival of your mate.  And there should be none of this foolish jabbering about unworthiness.  Do you really think that the Ones Above would have chosen this Woman for you without a good reason?  So, my advice to you is to wait until she arrives, and then see what your opinion of her is, for if you throw her out, the Death Prophecy'll get ye, my pretty gold doubloon.

"What is a doubloon?" the prince wondered.  He had a pretty good idea what a lummox was, but decided to say nothing, though he was mildly annoyed by the insult.  It was not as though he had not been called far worse in the past.  "Only in our family would we get a Talking Prophecy Book," he said, and concentrated on the page again.

Ahem.  Never mind about the man with the doubloon in the corner with the wrench.  Your stubborn little mind wouldn't comprehend the concept of alternate universes, anyway.  Now, pay attention!  If you don't want your kingdom and the Earth to be torn to pieces by the coming of the Greatest Evil, accept the Blue-Haired Woman and the Five who accompany her, or all will die.  Why is that so difficult to understand, O Princely One?  Eh?

Prince Vegeta glared at the red volume, thinking that he was truly going insane if he was starting to talk to an inanimate object, even if it was of magical origin.  It had never "spoken" to him before, though, either.  "It would be far simpler if you told me directly what the Greatest Evil was, and how to avoid it.  I don't want to pollute the blood of my heir with that of one of those weaklings."  He flinched as the Book's pages started to flap in agitation, and then settled back down.  There was very little he was, or ever had been afraid of in this universe, but he would admit to himself alone that magic talking books were now high on his list of things that unnerved him.  Magic talking books written by long-dead people - and Frieza, the evil tyrant, not necessarily in that order.

Stubborn.  Stubborn.  Stubborn.  Stubborn.  You already know I am unable to tell you everything.  I reveal to you what is allowed by the Ones Above, and no more.  Regals, you're all so ungrateful.   All I try to do is help my beloved royal family from beyond, and this is the thanks I get.  Shame, shame, shame.  Have you forgot what happened to your Granduncle Celerigula when he was told he should not go on that last minute hunting trip? Or to you and the ones you attempted dalliance with, on those occasions where you tried to get 'friendly' with the Ladies Lima, Tomatillo, and Arugula respectively?

The prince grimaced at the memories of extreme physical pain from having buildings and trees fall upon him unexpectedly, and ran a hand through his naturally spiky, upswept mane of dark hair.  "No.  I have not.  It would be impossible to forget about any of those incidents.  Celerigula met and married King Tenshinhan the Brave's first cousin, and then, when she died, ran off and became a peaceful hermit.  The least he could have done to save the family honor was to become a warrior hermit.  It was a stunning display of weakness, and a disgrace to us all.  However, I do not see why I am forced to wait until I'm mated to engage in 'friendly' behavior."  He would have called it something a little cruder, but the presence of the ghost stayed his tongue.

Just do it.  I've never been wrong in my life, or in my death.  It was the only benefit to being mad.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr." 

Just.  Do.  It.  The Blue-Haired Woman will be here before you know it.

All right, I will!  I will!  Good day!"  Prince Vegeta closed the Book with care, got up, and walked away from the table, fuming and muttering under his breath about tainted bloodlines and prophet ghosts who didn't know their proper places.  And then he caught sight of the mirror across the room, upon which was written, in large letters: "Mess Up at Thine Own Risk."  He had a hard time repressing a shudder after that, as he went back to pick up the Book in order to return it to its resting place in the locked cabinet down the hall.  He had a key, so he wouldn't bother calling Radditz to come and put it away.  He didn't want it in his grasp for any longer than was necessary.  

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Welcome once again, Readers of Great Distinction, to my, Timaeus the Glib's, chapter ending paragraph.  So, now we have met Bulma-the-Beautiful's Handsome, Rich, Intelligent, Strong Prince.  What do you think of him?  I'm not certain he's going to properly appreciate the wonder that is Bulma, but we'll see as we go on.  I will say this, Dear Audience, if he doesn't treat her with all due respect, I'll…I'll…

(Prince Vegeta appears, sneering)  You'll what, Human?

Timaeus: I'll…oh, just get back in the story.  I never in my life had such a problem with characters not staying in their own familiar surroundings until you came along.  

Prince Vegeta:  Hn.  I could easily destroy you with one blow, insignificant Human worm, but you're no challenge to me, so I choose not to.  (disappears)

Timaeus:  Ahem.  Thank you for being such a wonderful audience.  Until our next chapter, with much fondness, Timaeus.

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	5. Menace Underground

A/N:  Love the wonderful reviews – thanks muchly!  ^_^

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 5: Menace Underground

Hello!  I, Timaeus the Glib, welcome you to our fifth chapter.  We now return to the merry and somewhat twisted adventures of Bulma-the-Beautiful Briefs as she journeys to meet her unenthusiastic, and, if you ask me, ungrateful, husband to be, the Handsome Prince of the Vegetables.  Let us make our way back to the bridge where Bulma and her new friend Goku have been in conversation with the awe inspiring green Demon Piccolo the Younger.

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"Piccolo - err - Piccolo the Younger, if you journey with us, I can promise you won't be bored," Goku added enthusiastically.  "I don't know where Bulma's going, but like I said before, I'm on my way to find my wife and bring her back, so we can live happily ever after."  

Bulma rolled her eyes at his back.  _He is soooo naïve.  Happily ever after – really, now.  I only wish it could be that way.  Look at me, for example.  I've had to go out in the world *by myself*, and find a Handsome Prince, who will probably end up being really icky-looking as far as icky were-monkeys go, and how would I know what one looks like, never having seen a Vegetable before, O woe is me._

Piccolo the Younger stared down at the Human male, reading his aura with a sense of befuddlement.  This Goku was an unusual member of his race, for not only did he have an exceptionally high level of ki, but also a special kind of innocence and charisma.  He was the sort of person who convinced one to take actions one had never planned, a catalyst.  There was something odd about the Human female as well, besides her hair.  He found her annoying, if brilliant, yet he had a strange compulsion to aid her, he who had been taught to think nothing but ill of her species.  Perhaps he would set his steps to theirs for a while; he was young in the world, but he learned quickly, and always wished to know more.  Yes, he would go with them and see what befell.  "I must wait for the Abominable Troll to return, but I expect her presence within the hour.  Then, I will come after."

"Great!" Goku reached out to slap Piccolo the Younger's hand in his enthusiasm, but the green Demon warned him off with flaring eyes.

"He'll probably try to eat us," Bulma said under her breath.

"I will not," replied the Demon, sounding insulted.  "I eat rarely, and drink only water as a beverage."

The scientist in Bulma was intrigued, though she was a bit miffed at herself for already forgetting that Demons had superb hearing.  "Really?  Why is that?" 

"I know not, save that it is all the sustenance my body requires."  The Demon Prince rose back into the air, and did a lazy, graceful somersault before settling into a lotus position.  "Go now.  The Abominable Troll will arrive soon, and I do **not** want to have to explain that I was unwontedly generous."  

Goku nodded.  "See you shortly!" 

 Bulma also nodded, as she didn't feel she had much of a choice.   She just hoped that The Fanged Green Monster wouldn't decide he wanted to kill them later on.  The beauty picked up her bicycle, and together the questers walked across the lovely white stone bridge, and into the Land of Panchan.

Ten minutes later, she was reminded that they'd never had a chance to eat when she heard another dreadful gurgling sound coming from Goku's stomach.  He's going to say, "Bulma, I'm hungry," she predicted in a whisper.

"Bulma, I'm hungry," said her companion, looking at her with his appealing dark eyes.

"So am I.  Still.  Let's find a place to stop this time that doesn't have any Demons or Trolls attached to it.  Hmm, I think that nice hill will do."  She pointed to a small rise in the distance.  The road had begun to slant upwards a bit, and she pedaled harder.  

The young man shrugged, and then laughed as his midsection gave off another loud, sustained gurgle.  "My stomach's so empty, I could eat almost anything, almost anywhere."

"Here.  This is perfect." Bulma stopped the bike, and descended from it with as much grace as she could manage, considering her legs were a little stiff from her unaccustomed exertions.  She rummaged in her backpack, and found the capsule she was looking for, the one entitled Instant Picnic.  With a toss, and a BOM!, the capsule released its contents:  a big, comfortable blue blanket, and a foldable wooden table and benches complete with a cheery red gingham tablecloth.  A huge, overflowing basket of comestibles sat atop the table. 

Goku drooled when he saw the feast.  "Let's eat!" he said, rushing toward the picnic table, tongue hanging out.

"Leave some for me!"  Bulma followed, and sat down hastily, settling the blanket beneath her.  She chose what she wanted in the food department: bread, meat, cheese, condiments, and strawberries with whipped cream, and poured herself a small glass of Brother Rimfuld's Rose Wine.  The rest she left for the man with the endless appetite.

"Mnnn!  Yum!  This is really good, Miss Bulma!" Goku exclaimed around mouthfuls of delectable edibles, his eyes shining.

The blue-haired woman smiled and preened slightly.  "I can be a very good cook, when I want to, and it also helps to know the right places to shop for the little extras."  She nibbled on a slice of very expensive Safoyar cheese, punctuating her statement, though Goku would have had no idea that this was a specialty product much favored by the best families.  He had no idea of proper table manners, either.  He was shoveling in food with both hands.  She winced, and rescued the wheel of Safoyar.  There was no way he was going to eat a thousand demark cheese without giving it the proper respect.  She surreptitiously put it back in the empty basket, along with the re-corked bottle of wine that Goku had shown no interest in.  She finished her own meal, and then waited patiently for the Spargatian's rate of consumption to slow to a halt.  And waited.  And waited some more.  

Finally Goku looked up, rubbing his belly with satisfaction after he polished off a large blue raspberry pie.  "Thank you, Bulma!  Chi-Chi would have lots of compliments for you about your cooking."

Bulma sighed loudly.  "We need to be on our way again, or at least I do.  You never did say where you were going."

"Oh, I'm just following Chi-Chi's smell.  It says she went this way.  I'll just keep walking until the smell gets really strong, and there she'll be."  

"Her smell?"  Bulma winced.  She had a dreadful conception of what this "smell" must be like.  It must be very strong if Goku could follow it anywhere, though she herself hadn't noticed any unpleasant aroma lingering in the air as they'd been traveling.

"Uh huh.  She smells just like fresh baked bread and lemons.  Yummy."

The refined Heiress of Capsule Corp. was relieved.  No horrible odors to worry about, then.  A thought occurred to her.  "How can you 'smell' her from here?  She's not anywhere around, as far as I can tell."

"My grandfather always said I had a really smart nose.  That's why!"  The Spargatian grinned at her proudly.  "Okay, I'm ready to go find my Chi-Chi!"

Bulma re-encapsulated the Instant Picnic, and went to pick up her bicycle.  "I wonder where that Piccolo Demon is?  Shouldn't he have caught up with us by now?"

Goku frowned in agreement, and opened his mouth to speak, but there was a drastic thunking sound, and the hillside below their feet collapsed.

"Whaaaaaaa?" yelled Bulma as she and her companion fell into a large hole in the now open ground.  Goku let out a loud grunt of surprise instead of whatever it was he would have said had he been allowed to finish saying it.

They dropped perhaps five feet, and then landed on their nether ends on a thick, brambly floor rug.  "Ouch!  What kind of deviant person makes rugs out of twigs and branches!" the lovely lady complained, rubbing her abused backside, and sitting up as quickly as she could in order to look around, as well as to get away from the big clumps of dirt that surrounded her.  It was suspiciously light down here for being belowground.  That could only mean one thing…one very bad thing.  Dwarves.

Goku jumped to his feet, and stared off to their left where there was a big oak table with a crew of stocky little men seated around it, drinking what smelled like ale.  He didn't like the smell of ale.  The short men looked at their unexpected guests with decidedly unwelcoming expressions.

"Damned be you, you broketh our fine ceiling!" said the one closest to them, standing up and unstrapping a hefty axe from a belt around his middle.  

"You also criticizedeth our taste in home furnishings!" said another, even stockier little menace.  "Death to intruders who criticize the beauty and stability of Dwarf-made products."

"Well, if this is what Dwarven architecture is, I am **not** impressed," said Bulma.  "The lot of you need to go back to Dwarf mining school, and learn how not to over-dig.  Your ceiling was a serious accident just waiting to happen."  She sniffed, and looked around for a way out before the Dwarves noticed that she was female, which was what worried her most.  She'd heard terrible things about perverted dwarves, after all.

"KILL that obnoxious Human!" ordered the first Dwarf, pointing his finger at the young lady with the aqua hair.  "And after you've killed her, make HER fix the ceiling, if she's going to be so smug about it!"

Bulma shook her head in disbelief.  She'd also heard that Dwarves, besides being perverted, were quite intelligent.  Not these ones.  She looked over at Goku, seriously hoping that he was going to stop the Dwarves from taking her wonderful, meaningful life, because she couldn't use the Exploding Nerve-Numbing Gas Capsule to defend herself in such close quarters.  He grinned at her, a ferocious "Time to Kick Hiney" type of grin, and stepped forward to block the mass of advancing Dwarves.

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Tis I, Your Loyal Friend and Narrator, Timaeus the Glib, pleased to invite you back to my small corner of the world.  It doth seem that we will have action at last in the chapter following this one.  What will become of Bulma-the-Beautiful Briefs?  Will Goku truly be strong enough to save her from the dastardly, perverted Dwarves with bad taste in rugs, or will they both fall beneath the mighty axes of these creatures in desperate need of an interior decorator?  And what of Prince Vegeta?  What has been happening with Our Hero since Chapter 4?  Patiently await our next Chapter, where these questions will more than likely be answered if the Author is kind and in a good mood.  May there only be rain on your heads if you want it for your crops.  Kisses, Timaeus.  Oh, not again…

Head Dwarf:  So, Timaeus the Glib, you moldering idiot, I thought Narrators were supposed to be neutral.  You've already made it plain that you don't think our taste in decorating is up to speed.  I think it would look much better if your corpse adorned the walls of our newly refurbished home – what's your august opinion on that, eh?

Timaeus: (runs and stands behind a pillar)  Save me from Dwarvish upstarts!  You aren't the stars of this story, Bulma-the-Beautiful is; therefore, I must comment on her preferences, tastes, and thoughts.  It is not my fault in the least if she assumes untrue things about you.

Head Dwarf:  What a weasel!  And methinks **we** are not the perverts here, scrawny Human.  Just see that there are no more references to the need for an interior decorator, and I won't maul you with the Mighty Axe of Mardy-Pardy-Hardy.  (leaves, casually tossing his mighty axe in the air, and catching it by the haft with two fingers)

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A/N:  A demark is a universal unit of currency in this AU, worth approximately 20 American cents.  So, you can see why Bulma felt that her costly cheese deserved to be savored. ;)


	6. And Then There Were Four

A/N:  Argh!  I'm sorry this has taken so long – RL and the evil ISP struck again.  Thanks again to everyone who has been reviewing!  ^__^  I promise to thank you all individually when this is over.

soyamiso, I always used to wonder where the female Dwarves were, too, that's why I chose to do that scene without them,  as a sort of homage/spoof.  However, **I** have an explanation in this chapter as to why they aren't around.  LOL. 

Disclaimer:  I still don't own Dragonball, but you can probably tell that I wish I did.  ^_~

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale 

Chapter 6:  And Then There Were Four

This is Timaeus the Glib, your Happy Narrator.  Please be seated, Gentle Beings. I'd like to get this part of the introduction over with as quickly as possible, so that the Head Dwarf will stop lurking over my shoulder with his axe, threatening me with a permanent place on his wall if I cast any more aspersions on his taste in home furnishings.  Thank you kindly for your tolerance of one who is merely a shadow cast on the brightness of the Sun that is Bulma–the-Beautiful Briefs.  And now, on with our tale featuring her, and her supporting players.

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Prince Vegeta was in the ornamental water garden, watching a pair of young newly-mateds laughingly feeding the snapping red swans in the large central pond.  For the smallest of instants, a bitter envy snaked through him.  _I will_ never _have the satisfaction of mating truly with a female worthy of me_, he thought.  Then he closed his eyes and turned angrily away from the sight.  Time to go and make himself and some of his Elite warriors even stronger than they already were by engaging in a mock-battle that would leave them all battered and bloody, and able to attain even greater strength when they recovered.  Whatever the Greatest Evil was, and he believed he knew the name of that foulness, surely it would behoove them to continue to prepare for it in as many ways as possible.

He strode from the garden, and nearly bumped into Nappa, the trainer of his early days, and his main sparring partner.  Shrugging off the taller man's apologies, he waved a hand in a cutting-off gesture.  "Summon the guards.  It is a good day for a Bloodbath."

Nappa grinned fiercely.  "I will do so with much gladness, Your Princeliness.  It's been a while since we had a mass scrap.  Your father might even deign to take part in this one; it's my belief he's as much on edge as the rest of us, what with waiting for the…and…the…" he stopped what he was about to say as he saw Prince Vegeta's malevolent expression.  It was a terrible thing for the Royal Heir to have to mate with a Human, but, sooner or later, the Prince would have to become accustomed to his fate.  Everyone else had, and were now on alert, all waiting for the arrival of the Blue-Haired Woman, and the Greatest Evil to follow her within a very short period of time.

Prince Vegeta turned his obsidian orbs to the practice field as they walked toward the Palace of the Seventeen Hundred Winds.  Nappa left him there and marched to the barracks, where the unmated Guards lived.  Some few were practicing in the yard, but as it was midday, most were finishing off their lunches or were on duty at the Palace.

"Losers!  The Prince requests a Bloodbath, now!" said the bald-headed trainer, his smile now utterly vulture-like.

The Elites jumped to attention, each one all but wriggling with joy.  A no-holds-barred match with Prince Vegeta was a glorious event indeed.  Fifteen happy Guards tumbled out into the yard after Nappa, to be joined by the four in the yard once explanations had been made, and further orders given.  Ten minutes later, after the king had been apprised of the event in question and Radditz had followed him out, the practice engagement began.  It was a wild yet controlled melee, where smooth punches and kicks soon gave way to carefully orchestrated ki attacks.  The Elite force accounted well for themselves, but, as is the way of a world in which those who are both strongest and most cunning are nearly always victorious, soon only King Vegeta, Prince Vegeta and Nappa were left standing, and Raditz and Ruta, Nappa's daughter, sitting, in a yard full of near-unconscious fighters.  All five were streaked with blood and covered in bruises.  All five were grinning.  

"Very good," the prince said, taking in his surroundings, and smirking at the bleeding soldiers on the ground.  "We will all grow stronger from this, and perhaps, at last, I shall ascend to the level of power the legends say I am destined for."  The royal father and son turned their backs on the carnage, and with Nappa as their shadow, went back to the palace to shower and find a hearty repast.  The new cook they'd hired made food like none other.  

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Shortly before Prince Vegeta's scrap with his warriors, Bulma and Goku were having their lives threatened by infuriated Dwarves.  Did they survive?  Let us ascertain the answer to this question of momentous import.

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"Kill her!  Kill her now!" shrieked the Head Dwarf, his eyes rolling around insanely in his head.  Four Dwarves rushed forward, only to be met by the Spargatian fighter, who managed to deftly avoid all four axes while pushing his foes back to a point beyond the table.  Beer mugs and dishes clattered as the Dwarf quartet crashed into the opposite wall.  The other Dwarves looked slightly concerned.

"You know, it's really a waste of time to try to hurt Miss Bulma.  She may be kind of bossy, and a bit snooty, but she has all kinds of good food, and her heart's in the right place, and it's only fair to defend her because she's traveling with me, so there's no way I'm going to let you get near her," Goku told the Dwarves, who were massing for another run at him.

Behind him, Bulma blinked.  Were all males tactless idiots?  Bossy?  Snooty?  She?  Not so!  She was merely a high-class gem in a sea of common pebbles.  Any person of refinement would have been able to see that.  Goku was surely going to hear it from her after he took care of the tacky Dwarves...if he took care of the tacky Dwarves.

"Get them!" the Head Dwarf ordered, and he, followed by the eleven members of his dining party, rushed back at the defending pair. 

Bulma cowered.  Twelve angry warriors, with twelve big, sharp axes.  Oh, dear.  Could Goku really save them?   Her knapsack was up above with her bicycle, so any weapons of self-defense she might be able to create were also up there, except for the Exploding Nerve-Numbing Gas Capsule, which would not only numb the nerves of the Dwarves, but of her and Goku as well.  Drat it all!  She hated feeling helpless.

"I haveth you now!"  The Head Dwarf swung his mighty axe at Goku's leg.  Goku jumped up in the air, and that weapon missed him, as did the other eleven axes that were being aimed at him.  

"Where did he go?" the Dwarves wondered when he didn't come back down.  

Bulma looked up at the hole in the ceiling.  Goku had escaped, but he'd left her here.  "Gokuuuuu!" she yelled.

A goofy laugh was her reply. "Oops!  I don't know my own strength sometimes!  Errr.  I'll be right back.  Oh, hello, Piccolo the Younger!  I'm glad you caught up with us.  I'm in the midst of fighting some Dwarves who want to kill Bulma, and I guess, me, too."

The Dwarves looked at Bulma.  Bulma looked at the Dwarves.  They were all thinking the same thing – if Goku was up there, and his attention was distracted by the new arrival, and Bulma was down here, now was their chance.  She screamed for help, very, very loudly.

The twelve Dwarves cringed back, being possessed of sensitive hearing much as Goku and Piccolo were.  Goku jumped back into the hole, knowing he could get out easily enough if he needed to, his ears ringing.

Above them, the Demon peered into the Dwarven cave, curious to see what was happening.  He could see that the cave was not high enough for him to fight efficiently within, but he would lend a hand if needed.

"Excuse me, but what's going on, please?" came a voice from behind him.  

Piccolo the Younger snarled and spun around, ready to annihilate the paltry creature, whatever it was.  How had he missed sensing this energy level?  It was fairly high, for a mortal. What do you want?" he asked, eyeing the very short person before him with deadly menace.

The very short person - was he an extra thin, beardless Dwarf? - laughed nervously, and stepped back, showing the Demon the tall pile of thin white boxes on the back of his fly-a-scooter.  "I'm the pizza delivery guy," he explained.  "But is the Knock on Wood Clan in any condition to have pizza delivered to them, Sir Demon?  It looks like they had an accident with their home."

"You could say that," mused the Demon, peering back into the hole, where Goku was fending off the attacking Dwarf horde with fancy high kicks and making it look relatively simple.  "It would be wise if you desisted in your attempt to deliver your burden for the moment.  Your clients are currently busy trying to kill my companions.  And, please, call me Prince Demon, or I'll have to turn you into cottage cheese."

The pizza delivery guy shuddered, but came forward, and looked down into the hole.  "Anything you say, Prince Demon.  Maybe it will stop them from fighting if I tell them the food's here?"

Piccolo the Younger blinked at the short man, his lip curling up ever so slightly.  "Why would you want to do that?  A good fight is a thing of beauty – though I will say that this particular battle is rather pathetic, as battles go."

"Well, you know, I've got an exciting life to live…okay, so I don't have an exciting life to live, but I can't wait around forever for them to get done.  Believe me, they don't like cold pizza!  Hey, Lord Breaksixbones, your dinner's here!" he called.

"PIZZA!" was the response from twelve husky throats, as all axe-wielding rushes were put on hold.  "KILL!  Then pizza!  Or pizza, then kill?"

"Pizza?" Goku asked hopefully.

"For the sake of the Ones, you just ate!" Bulma said.  "Finish saving me first, and then worry about your next meal!"

"But…Pizza!!  We hardly ever have pizza at home," the Spargatian replied, disappointment painting his honest features.

"Nor will you have it now, Human!  The insolence of you, daring to craveth our Bachelor Party dinner!"  The Head Dwarf shook his head at the spiky-haired man.

"Bachelor Party, is it?" Bulma muttered.  "That explains why the testosterone quotient in the room is so high."

"Really?  Who's getting married?"  Goku bounced on the balls of his feet, and kept a ready stance.

The Dwarves held their weapons poised to strike.  "Dwor Breakabone here is the lucky one.  He will wed Lulliae Rockskull three days hence, after much feasting. "

The "lucky one" smiled with much pride.  "I am fortunate beyond the ken of most Dwarves and Humans alike; my Lulliae has a beard both thick and long – perfect for midnight braiding parties."  He looked over at Goku and Bulma.  "It's sad indeed that you Human females can't grow beards.  No female could possibly be anything but strange looking without one."  The other Dwarves murmured in agreement, not noticing that Bulma's face was turning red in anger.

"I have had it with you uncouth heathens!" she cried.  "I am not strange looking!  I am beautiful**!_  Beautiful_**.  Everyone has always told me so, and I can see it for myself.  Goku, get me out of here now!  I want to be on my way, and go to a place where I am appreciated again, instead of reviled by those with horrible taste."  She turned up her chin at the Dwarves, who looked puzzled.

"Truly, Lady Human," Dwor Breakabone said, "I do not revileth you, I pity you.  You cannot help being beardless.  I no longer wish to kill you for helping to ruin our ceiling, though I will do as our Chieftain requires."

Bulma blinked at him.  "Well, thank you very much!" she spluttered, turning a glare on him that would have easily singed his precious beard, if she'd happened to have any magical powers.  "What a nice thing to say to a girl!  Creep!"

"We do not have horrible taste!" roared the Head Dwarf.  "You are just asking for an axe in the gut, Human!"

"No, I'm not!  Your henchman called me strange looking, and I took offense to it.  How could I not?  So there!"  

The Head Dwarf shrugged.  "So, you cannot handle the truth, then?"

Bulma's eyes narrowed, and she stomped out from behind Goku.  "It isn't true!  And I'm glad your ceiling fell apart, since you're being so nasty!"

"Bulma, don't you think we should be a bit nicer to the Dwarves?" Goku suddenly queried, in a near-complete switch of position.  "I already know I can beat them, and they already know I can beat them, so why don't we just be friends, and share some pizza?"

"Turncoat!  They insulted me, and you are selling me out for pizza?!"

"So, you think you can beat us, and steal our dinner?" the Head Dwarf asked, glaring ferociously.

Goku grinned cockily.  "Well, yes, I **think** I can beat you.  I'm very strong, and I had a great martial arts master to teach me all about fighting.  And no, I won't 'steal' your pizza, but I've had an idea.  Maybe we can help you fix your roof, and then you give me one of those pies.  It'd make a perfect after-dinner snack.  Then, we'll leave, because I need to find my Chi-Chi, and there's no time to waste."

"GOKU!  They called me strange looking!"  Bulma glared at him, even more ferociously than the Head Dwarf had just done.

"Well, you said they had bad taste," the young man countered.  Bulma had to admit that he did have a point.

"They still shouldn't have tried to kill me – and you - though!"

"No, they shouldn't have, but trust me, I am not selling you out for a pizza."  He leaned forward and bent to whisper in her ear.   "I've got good reasons for this, and I'll tell you about them later.  I promise."

The blue-haired woman eyed him with displeasure, barely mollified by his partial explanation.

"What's a Chi-Chi?" the Dwarf leader wanted to know.  Then he held up his hand.  "Never mind.  I accept your offer.  As much as we love to fight, and we know we could have beaten you, extra-strong Human, we only have three days within which to celebrate this happy occasion.  Let all past offense be forgotten."

Across from him, Bulma fumed quietly.  Goku had an amazing way of turning enemies into allies, but to her way of thinking, the pestiferous Dwarves were still on her bad side – her very bad side.

Goku looked up at the hole.  "Did you hear all that, Piccolo?"

"Yes," was the Demon's succinct reply.  "If you need aid, I will provide it."

"So will I," chimed in the pizza delivery guy.  "These babies won't stay warm forever, though they've got the usual half-hour heat spell working on them."

And so it was that Goku, a reluctant Bulma, Piccolo, the Dwarves, and the pizza delivery guy worked in cooperation to rebuild the ceiling, and make it far stronger than it ever had been before.  In less than an hour, they were finished with that part of their task, and Lord Breaksixbones sent Dwor Breakabone and the helpers out through the tunnels with his thanks, and farewells - and a wheelbarrow containing the remnants of the dirt and grass that had fallen through the hole with the unexpected arrivals to the cave.  Once back on top, they packed the dirt into place, and made it look as presentable as possible.

Dwor paid the pizza delivery guy for the food, and, leaving one pie, started down around the side of the hill with a final jaunty wave.  "You're not too bad for a Human, Goku," he said, and then was gone. 

"You're not too bad for a Human, Goku," Bulma mimicked sourly.  "I am so very, very ready to depart this place, and I hope I never see Panchan again, if these are the kind of tacky, insulting people who live here."

"Hey!" the pizza delivery guy protested.  "**I** live here, and I'm nice.  Besides, I think you're very pretty," he added.  

"At last, a Dwarf with good taste," Bulma said in a somewhat barbed tone, as she patted her hair.   Next to her, Goku was devouring his reward, messily.

"Oh, I'm not a Dwarf, Miss.  I'm just a short person.  Well, I guess I should get back to the boring pizza shop, and my boring, humdrum life," he said with a sigh, starting to walk over to his fly-a-scooter.

Goku swallowed the last bit of pizza, and raised a hand.  "Wait!  I've got a feeling.  You should stay."

"Huh?"  The little Panchanian turned to stare at the taller Spargatian.

"Uh huh.  I get feelings sometimes, and this one says you should go with us, because you won't be bored, and you will be useful.  But, wow, I never knew there were so many bored people in this world."

"Yes, unfortunately we can't all live exciting lives, you know…I won't be bored?   Really?"  The pizza delivery guy perked up.  "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find my wife, Chi-Chi, and I don't know where Miss Bulma is going, but we're traveling in the same direction for now," Goku answered.   "Piccolo is supposed to go with us for some reason – my 'feeling' said so - and he was bored just like you, so that's why he's here.  Where are you on your way to, anyway, Miss Bulma?  You never did tell me."

Bulma decided she wanted to avoid a direct answer to that question.  It would be a little embarrassing to admit she was going to try to capture herself a were-monkey prince husband, one she hadn't even met yet.  "I'm on a Secret Quest," she finally said.

"Now that sounds interesting," said the small man.  "I'm in.  I was only helping out my brother-in-law while my sister was on maternity leave, and she's back as of today, coincidentally enough.  What more could I ask for than mystical 'feelings', and a Secret Quest?  I've got some martial arts experience, so maybe I really **can **help you out.  So, lead on!  Oh, by the way, my name is Krillin, since we never did introduce ourselves earlier," he thought to add, after a short pause.

"Great!" Goku bounced over to him and shook his hand.  "Glad to have you with us!  I'm Goku, and this is Prince Piccolo the Younger and Miss Bulma."

Bulma rolled her eyes.  Then she noticed something.  Her knapsack and bicycle were gone.   Oh, HFIL.

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Welcome, one and all, to the Chapter Closing Paragraph.  Oh, my.  Oh, my.  Who has stolen most of Bulma's belongings?  What will this mean for our heroic foursome? Will the radiantly, wonderfully lovely Bulma ever meet her Handsome, Exceptionally Undeserving Prince?  You are likely to receive the answers to these questions in our very next chapter, so, please, put on your Patience Caps, and stay tuned.  Good night, and I bow before you, my awesome Readers.

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	7. From the Forest

A/N:  I've decided to take this out of the romance category and put it into fantasy, since there's not what you would call a lot of romance in it to this point.  ^_~  For anyone who is still reading, I'm sorry it took so long to update.  I had problems with my computer, and then my hard drive died, and it took a couple of weeks to get everything back from the repair center.  I should start putting It's. Always. Something. in my signature line for 2002, I swear.  ^_^;;

Renee:  I'm so indecisive sometimes; I couldn't decide what kind of pizza the Dwarves would have ordered, so I didn't put anything down.  ^_~  I was thinking of something like a Fried Seaweed with Spicy Meatballs pizza, but then, I'm a bit twisted.  ^__^

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 7:  From the Forest…

Ah, hello, Gentle Readers.  When our previous Chapter ended, some evil thief had stolen Bulma's pack and her bicycle.  Well, who was this devilish soul?  Let us go and find out, quickly, now.  Quickly.

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 "Someone's taken my things!" Bulma cried.  "How dare they?"

Goku looked around.  "They did?  When?  Well, don't worry, Miss Bulma.  We'll find out who did it, and…"

"And avenge this insult with blood," Krillin added, sinking into his role as Bulma's new companion with disingenuous ease.

"And rearrange his dastardly insides," the Demon Piccolo finished.  How had he failed to notice the thief's ki?  This was the second time today he'd been caught unaware.

The aqua-haired beauty winced.  "No, I think that just getting my knapsack and my bike back would be sufficient – that, and dropping the culprit off at the nearest Justice Station, where he, if it's a he, would serve at least five years in prison, with only rats for company."

Her three stalwart companions sweatdropped, and then nodded sharply in agreement.  "Let's go find him!" Goku slid to his knees, and started to look for tracks while also attempting to find an energy signal.  

Krillin went to his flying vehicle, and got out a thin, flexible, two-pronged stick from one of the side panels.  "It's a scissor whip and tracking device," he told an openly curious Piccolo the Younger.   "According to this, there's been no one around with a ki level of any sort.  So, he must have been using some kind of dampening device."

Everyone fell silent and concentrated.  A few minutes afterward, three voices called simultaneously, "I know where he went!"  All eyes turned to the large forest situated at the left side of the road, which loomed just above the upsweep of the hill.

Bulma frowned.  She hadn't paid much attention to the landscape past the Dwarves' hill; she'd been too hungry at the time they stopped here to be concerned with anything but food.  

"Let's go!"  Goku started running as soon as he finished speaking.  "This calls for a little something extra.  Kintoun!"  A pretty little yellow cloud swooped down from the sky, and he jumped onto it, zooming away up the road. 

Krillin ran to the fly-a-scooter, leaped on it, and took off.  Piccolo launched himself into the air, and caught up with them.  Behind them, Bulma stood stunned and blinking.  Some gentlemen THEY were, forgetting all about a lady who couldn't possibly keep up with them.  She hoped they caught the villain, or she'd be very perturbed with the three of them. She also was dying to know where Goku'd acquired that handy magical cloud, and why he hadn't used it to travel with.

"Men!  And Demons!" she complained as she walked hurriedly up the hill.  She peered down at her wrist, and the combination chronometer/speedometer/compass/map.  "The Forest of Changing Identities," she said.  "Now, just what is **that** supposed to mean?"

Ahead of her, her three "defenders" had made it to the first enclosure of trees, where they paused, and Goku sent Kintoun away again.  Before them was a large orange sign that stated:  BEWARE OF DOG.  Below that was a smaller green sign, which told them to ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK, IDENTITIES SUBJECT TO CHANGE.  

"Weird," Krillin said.  "Oh, and where's Miss Bulma?"

Goku looked abashed.  "Uh, I forgot about her, but maybe she won't be mad at us if we find the thief before she sees us again.  She's got a temper, you know."  

Piccolo the Younger winced, and turned to view the road behind them.  "Yes, that she does.  She is on her way, and will arrive shortly.  We should go into the forest, capture the cyclenapper, and present his roasted corpse to her on a platter.  Then she will be less likely to make loud, angry sounds at us for our accidental desertion."

"Forward, ho!" Goku said, walking past the signs, a smile on his face.  He just loved a challenge.

"Who made you the leader of this expedition, Human?" The Demon Prince asked, prickly-voiced, but he and Krillin trailed the spiky-haired man into the forest.  He noted that the diminutive bald Human had suddenly turned a milky, soupy shade of white, but did not understand why.  Then he saw the gigantic, slime-dripping, hazelnut-colored worms hanging from the trees, and then not hanging from the trees any longer, but sliding and falling down to the ground, in their direction.  It seemed as though they would have a good fight on their hands this time.  He exposed his fangs, and began pacing toward the knobby-skinned worms.  They were a good three feet around, and probably six times as long.  Wet green trails coated the ground on which they slithered.

"Ugh!" Krillin said.  "Oh, well, what can we do?  They're here, so we have to fight them."

Just then, a small pink and white spotted lizard flew up to Goku from out of the trees somewhere, followed by a beautiful girl with long white hair, and skin as purple as could be.  "I warn you - don't go any further, and don't fight the worms!" she said with a hint of a shriek in her high voice.  "This is what the sign means by Changing Identities.  I'm really a black-haired man with tan skin, and a deep voice, and Pu'ar is really a flying cat.  It's an illusion spell of some sort.  If the worms touch you, you suddenly appear to be something you're not.  I don't know how long it lasts.   And don't forget to Beware of the Dog.  It's a monster!  Why did I have to escape into an Enchanted Forest, of all places?" she asked herself with a dark frown.

"Escape?"  Piccolo queried menacingly, levitating in order to avoid one of the huge, slithery worms as it made its way in his direction.

"Ah, did I say escape?  I didn't mean it," the girl said, backing away and whistling an innocent tune.

"Goku, I believe this is our thief," said the green Demon, baring his fangs at her.  At him. At her-him.  "Now that we have found you, poltroon, what shall we do with you?"

The girl sighed loudly.  "If we can just get out of this place, I will give you back the bicycle and knapsack.  I may be Yamcha, Formerly the Desert Bandit and now the Forest Bandit, but this is definitely the **wrong** forest to be a bandit in.  I've been magicked to look like a girl, chased by worms and a slobbering house-sized dog, and that's more than enough for me."

Krillin was narrowing his eyes at the girl, Yamcha, but he said, "Well, what are we waiting for, guys?  We don't need to fight those worms, unless you want to look like a girl.  And I do **not** want to see the house-sized dog, either."

"Too late," a giant pink six-armed carrot said cheerfully, as it threw one of the worms far away into the trees.  "Okay, now, I'm ready!  We've found the thief, so let's go collect Bulma and be on our way.  Though, it'd be fun to find the dog and see how long it takes for me to defeat it."

"Um, Goku, you're not a girl, but you look a **little** different now," Krillin ventured, veering away from a fast-moving worm that was on his trail.  "I don't even want to see what I'd look like, so I'm getting out of here!"  He suited the deeds to the words, and burst out from under the trees, halting at the side of the road.  The worms did not follow.  After him, the white-haired 'girl' and the Demon followed, and then finally, Goku emerged as well.  From within the forest, loud barking resounded, and a long, black tongue protruded into the sunlight before a strangled yelp was heard, and those standing there smelled the stench of burning meat.

"I guess it's not allowed outside," said Krillin, grinning in relief.  "I'm glad we got out just before it showed up."

The massively oversized carrot made a sound of disgust.  "I haven't had a chance to finish a battle yet this journey.  If it's not one thing, it sure is another.  Hi, Miss Bulma!  You certainly made it here fast," he said, as the three fighters registered her presence, and the female-appearing bandit even seemed to have noticed the aqua-haired young woman's quiet, fuming arrival.

"NO THANKS TO YOU!" Bulma yelled, and then blinked a few times. "Goku, is that you?  Why are you pink?  More to the point, why are you a carrot?"

"Oh, that.  It seems to be an illusion spell.  It'll probably wear off soon.  But, look, we found you the bandit.  Give her back her belongings.  Now," the Goku-carrot said, laying three ferny hands on the purple girl's shoulder.

"All right, all right."  The girl who was really a man reached in her backpack, and pulled out a capsule.  She stepped forward to hand it to the lovely Miss Briefs; thus were Bulma's bicycle and knapsack returned to her.  Bulma wasn't about to assume that they actually were in the capsule, so she made sure to check for herself.  She was pleased to find that everything was there, and in one piece.

"Thank you," Bulma said to her trio of companions.  "So, what are we waiting for - the end of time?  Let's take her to the closest Justice Station and make her really sorry."

"No, please, don't do that," the bandit begged.  "I only wanted to find a present for my sweetheart.  I was making a good living as a Desert Bandit until I met her, and moved to Vinegarhaven.  I then became a Forest Bandit, but Melodia demanded of me that I become an honest man, and sent me out into the world with instructions not to return to her until I had brought her back a gift beyond price.  There's no chance I could ever buy a gift beyond price, so I was hoping you happened to have one.  I haven't deprived any rightful owners of their property in months - before today."

"You look like a girl to me," Bulma told him, shaking her head at his probable insanity.

"It's another spell.  My name is Yamcha, and I'm definitely a man!"

"I see."  She shook her head at him again.  Obviously, he'd never read any of the old tales, or he'd have an idea of what his sweetheart was talking about.  She could enlighten him, but she figured Melodia's idea had been to have him learn on his own.  Still, she'd give him a hint, not that he'd be seeing his sweetheart anytime soon, because **she** was going to make sure he would be punished.  "You can't buy the sort of gift she's asking for," she informed him.

All four manly beings stared at her blankly, their lack of understanding complete.  "Huh, Miss Bulma?" Goku finally asked her.

"I can't tell you, or I'd ruin his quest.  Though, I'm going to ruin it anyway.  It's off to jail with you, thiefy!"

Goku the carrot looked at Yamcha the girl/guy, and then said, "Miss Bulma, you are going to hate me for this even more than you did for what I did with the Dwarves, but we can't send him to jail.  He and his lizard are going to have to go with us." 

"I'm a shapeshifting cat," the lizard interrupted, but nobody appeared to have heard. 

"Are you trying to torture me, Goku?"  Bulma stomped one beautiful foot, and walked up to the huge carrot, which towered over her by at least three feet.  "I'm still mad at you for the Dwarves.  I suppose you had another 'feeling'?"

The carrot blushed, which was a frightening sight to those below, and even disconcerted the very tall Demon.  "I know you won't believe this, but when I was defending you against them, I suddenly had a brief vision of them helping us in a dangerous battle; Lord Breaksixbones was unmistakable – I'd know that blue beard anywhere.  So, I decided to stop.  I've never had a real vision before, so I knew it had to be very important."

"Oh," Bulma replied, her anger suddenly defused.  "Well, I still think they are tacky.  And I've gone with your 'feelings' up to this moment, so, yes, I do believe you."  She backtracked.  "A battle?  What do you mean?  What battle, and with whom were we fighting?"

"I couldn't tell.  Everything was confused.  I saw the Dwarves, and some angry men with hair like mine, and tails, and us, all standing facing a big, wheel-shaped object, and then it was gone."

"Tails?!  Were they fighting us?"  It would be just her luck, with the way this quest was going so far, that the Vegetables took one look at her, pronounced her too ugly for their prince, and attempted to kill her.  She had no idea what the wheel-shaped object could be, however.

"No.  They were on our side," Goku said decisively.

Bulma breathed a deep, relieved sigh.  That was something, at least.  As she was tramping up the hill, she had been thinking about aborting her quest, and returning home, though it was against the code of the Briefs to quit at anything, be it sport, or inventions, or finding the proper husband.  "So where do the bandit and the pink lizard come into this, pray tell?"

"Cat.  I am a cat," the small lizard squeaked again.

Goku scratched his head.  "They were part of 'us'."

"Drat.  I should have known."

Yamcha eyed them thoughtfully. "If we come with you, does that mean you won't send me to prison?"

"We won't send you to prison," grumped Bulma, after pretending to ponder her non-existent options.  "As long as you help us, that is – and no more thievery from you, either – do you understand?"

The former bandit hung his head.  "I do.  I can fight pretty decently, so I guess I could be of assistance that way.  I also have a Speed Warrior, so we can travel in style."

"Nice wheels!"  Krillin said.  "Let's ride with him!"  

And so it was decided that Bulma and Krillin would ride with Yamcha and Pu'ar, Goku would use Kintoun as a method of transportation, and Piccolo would fly, and if he no longer felt like flying, he would also ride in the top of the line convertible automobile/helicopter/speedboat/motorcycle.  The fly-a-scooter and the bicycle were encapsulated and put away by their owners, and the journey resumed.  Bulma mused silently as they drove along that she didn't want to be in a battle, but even she, who was not especially prophetic, had come to the conclusion that all these people she had met today, and all of their actions, were setting up something that had been inevitable since well before her father had ever mentioned the bachelor magazine to her. 

****   ****  ****

It had been a very tasty lunch indeed, thought the prince, as he walked down the long first-floor corridor on his way to the Library where he planned to do some research on Humans.  He paused, hearing the sounds of laughter coming from one of the common conference rooms.  Why were they so mirthful?  He would find out.  He needed a good laugh himself, after the session with the Book earlier.  He glanced through the open door, where he saw thirty or so familiar faces sprawled out on couches, transfixed yet howling with glee at the sight of whatever it was that was playing on the large video screen.  Prince Vegeta didn't see what was particularly compelling about two Humans sitting under a large umbrella in the rain, however.

"My precious Venala, how I love you, but your Cruel Guardian will never let us be together," a pale-haired Human revealed, his eyes green pools of anguish.

"Damn," said Cauli, one of the newest Elite Guards, guffawing.  "This is too tragic.  Poor Lady Venala and Diamon, the Lowly Squire are destined to be apart forever."  He picked up some mixed beetle nuts, and tossed them in his mouth.

"Alas, Diamon, your words strike the blows of truth into my fragile heart.  Can we not defy him by running away?  I would be willing to live a life of abject poverty simply to be with you, beloved."

"Impossible.  Lady Ven would die of that "fragile heart" in no more than two months if she tried to live in abject poverty with low-class Diamon.  She has no idea what the **real** world is all about, the weakling," commented another Guard, Rhubarbaru, prompting snickers from all around the room.  

"My Dearest Lady, if only I could, but I cannot," the blond Man said with a wistful expression.  "You are not meant for the hardships we would experience if I took you away from your life of privilege.  Surely, you must also know that your Cruel Guardian would follow us, never stopping until he had returned you to his cold, vile clutches."

"I knew he was going to duck out," said Lady Arugula from her perch in the corner.  

The Lady on the screen sobbed.  "Oh, Diamon, say it isn't so!  I would wither away if you were to leave me."

"How do Humans survive, if they are this pathetic all the time?" asked young Wheatgrass, guzzling an apple soda.

"I must, my Sweet, my Only.   Perhaps it will be possible for you to stave off your evil Guardian's plans for six months, while I go abroad and attempt to find a way to become fabulously wealthy in as little time as possible.  Then he would let us wed."

"For shame," Lady Lima said in her husky voice, the one that had attracted the prince to her some eight years ago.  "He should simply challenge the Evil Guardian to mortal combat.  Methinks he is afraid to lose."

"Dear, dear Diamon.  I see your mind is set, but please, give me one last kiss before you go.  I will do everything I can to buy you the time to become rich enough for even my greedy Guardian." The black-haired female did something strange with her eyes, blinking them rapidly several times.

There was silence from the crowd, as they all leaned forward to watch.  Prince Vegeta also found himself leaning into the room.  _What on Earth was a kiss, that it could cause such anticipation in this audience? _

"Darling!" exclaimed Diamon, and caught the fragile Venala in one manly arm, while never letting the coverage of the umbrella falter.  Then he placed his lips on hers.

Ya'na'ayn!  Ya'na'ayn!" chanted the onlookers.  It was a shortened version of a phrase in their native language that meant, in polite terms, "Rip your clothes off and have at it."

_What?  The Blue-Haired Woman did that to me in my dream.  So it is not a method of resuscitation after all.  It is some strange Human gesture of affection.  Repulsive.  A kiss, is it?  I will have to remember that, and avoid her if she tries to use it on me.  _The prince continued to eye the screen warily.  He'd had no idea there were any warriors who had such an interest in things Human.

The pair on the video screen broke apart, and the scene dimmed to black.   A somber voice was heard as background credits started to roll.  "Will the tragic pairing of Lady Venala and Squire Diamon ever come to fruition, or will Cruel Lord Richando keep them apart forever?  Watch _Of Earthly Desires_ next week to see another piece of this heartbreaking story revealed."

The audience was convulsed with laughter. "That was excellent!" pronounced Lady Lima, as she picked up a raw steak appetizer and bit into it.  "Humans are just so…precious!" she added, earning even more laughter for her wit.

Prince Vegeta decided he'd seen more than enough, and left before anyone saw, sensed, or heard him.  He still had business in the Library.  But, he wondered as he walked, would any of the people of Vegetable find the Blue-Haired Woman to be "precious?"  If she simpered like the Lady Venala, he didn't think he, or anyone else, could stand her for more than five minutes.

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It is a pleasure to speak with you once again, Readers.  Does it not seem that, at last, the Prophesied meeting of Bulma-the-Beautiful and the Prince of the Vegetables is even now at hand?  Yea, it is indeed a certainty that the twain shall meet, and sparks shall fly.  Sniff.  Ah, well, and so must it be.  Good night to all, and may your slumbers be peaceful, and may you not dream of the fruitless pursuit of storied lovelies that you can under no circumstances attain.  Thank you, Timaeus.

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A:/N:  Thanks muchly for any reviews!  ^_^


	8. To the Forest

A/N:  Hey, I got this chapter out a bit faster than last time. (applauds herself mockingly)  Not as fast as I would have liked…but at least the chapters are getting longer.  ^_^) Thanks to Renee the Rabid Squirrel  (I know exactly what you mean about fate – I'm glad you waited  ^_^), soyamiso, and TigerQueen, and anybody else who's reading this get-togetherish fic where the main characters don't actually meet for eight chapters.   Blame my muse for that one.  ^_~  

Warnings for this chapter:  a bit of strong language, a bit of violence

Disclaimer:  I still don't own Dragonball.  I merely pay homage.

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter 8:  To the Forest

Welcome, Kindly Audience.  I, Timaeus, will not speak to you long today other than to wish you the happiest of days, and to offer you a beverage of your choosing to sip whilst you read this humble endeavor by the Author.  For myself, I shall go into a corner and brood, for here is the chapter in which, at last, our hero and heroine are destined to meet.

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Bulma couldn't help thinking that traveling by Speed Warrior had to be one of the best modes of transportation available.   It was fast, had comfortable seating, and had garnered admiring glances from other drivers and pedestrians alike.  It was also probably stolen, but she wasn't planning to ask about that.  She wondered if she could convince her parents that one would be a perfect addition to their collection of practical vehicles.  Both of them tended not to let her buy anything they considered racy, unfortunately.  It was too bad.  They'd already gone nearly 250 miles in under three hours.  At this rate, it would be just before dinnertime when she arrived in Vegetable, and not the four or five days she'd expected her quest to take.  

She still had not told her companions exactly where she was going, and why, other than that her final destination was the land of Vegetable, but they had all determined they would escort her to the kingdom's border at the very least.  Then Goku would go to find Chi-Chi, if they hadn't located her before that time.  Bulma watched with a small smile as Goku, on his flying cloud, swooped down to the ground and leaned over to check for tracks and the scent and ki trail of his wife.  At his affirmative nod, her smile widened.  

It was fortunate the illusion spells had worn off after an hour – she'd been a trifle bothered by the sight of her new friends in their "changed identity" forms.  As it was, she wasn't sure if she would ever want to eat a carrot again.  But Yamcha had turned out to be very attractive; she hadn't expected that.  He was a handsome, dashing man indeed.  Lucky Melodia – except that she was also stuck with a former Desert Bandit.  **Her** parents would have a fit of distress if she brought a thief home to meet them, handsome or not.  No, on second thought, her mother would probably drag someone so delectable into the house and ask him to pose for one of her paintings so she could admire his body.  And her father would attempt to analyze him to find out why he'd become a Desert Bandit in the first place.  _Bulma Briefs, you have strange parents, _she told herself silently.  She yawned and watched the scenery as best she could, considering how fast they were traveling.

****   **** ****

Prince Vegeta had been about to have a small snack before his pre-dinner sparring match with Nappa, when he got a sudden urge to go upstairs and get the Book out of the locked cabinet.  _Feh_.  _Now the ghost is poking around my brain.  I will have to humor him;_ _otherwise he will pester me until I do.  _Back he went to his suite of rooms, retrieved the key and then the large volume, which he set on his worktable as he had done earlier in the day.  It began "speaking" as soon as he opened it.

~Hello again, Prince Vegeta.  I thought you would appreciate being apprised that the Blue-Haired Woman will be arriving within the hour.~

"What?!"

~She and the Five are on their way to the Forest.~

"So soon?  That is impossible!"

~It can be and it is.  Perhaps you would like to meet her there, though I imagine those who accompany her will be a sufficient match for the difficulties they will encounter.  It is never a bad thing to greet one's Mate-to-Be.  It saves problems later, trust me on this.~

"Spare the lecture on etiquette, ghost," snarled the prince, though fairly politely.  "I'm not ready, damn it!"

~We have been through this before; you have no choice.  None.  Zero.  Zilch.  If I do say so myself, however, I believe you will be quite pleased with her.~

"That is impossible.  She is Human, and weak, thus loathsome.  Grrrr.  So much for my training this evening."  Prince Vegeta looked at the clock on the wall, which told him exactly what his automatic inner time sense had, that it was nearing small beast snack time.

~ Kindly remind me to say I told you so a week or two from now.~

"Ha.  You may be a Mad Prophet Ghost, but you haven't reckoned with me.  I have no heart.  I despise weakness in all its forms.  But I will put you away now, and go to greet the Human, or she will likely be devoured by one of the trees.  They have not had a good meal since the warning signs were erected."

~Oh, I reckon with you very well, Dear Young Prince.  It is you who do not fully reckon with Destiny.  We will be speaking again in short order, and then we will see what we will see.  Your heart is not nearly so cold and closed as you believe.  Ah, and you might as well leave me here.  I will need to converse with the Blue-Haired Woman very soon.  No one else will dare to open the Book, so you need not worry about that.~

The prince nodded, and closed the Book, an unpleasant expression crossing his face.  _No.  No.  No._  _He **did**__have a cold heart_, _and_ h_e would **not **find her pleasing.  He refused to do so.  He would take her as his formal_ _mate, but she could live on the other side of the palace once the ceremony was over for_ _all he cared_.  He put the Book back in its cabinet, and went to tell Radditz to arrange for the arrival of six unwanted guests, and the lowering of the barrier that kept outsiders away if the signs and the Forest were insufficient deterrents. 

****   ****   ****

"Look!  We're here!"  Goku was grinning cheerily, floating a few feet above the ground in front of a sign that read:  Kingdom of Vegetable.  Retreat Now or Forever Lose Your Head.  Yamcha pulled up beside him and stopped the car.

"Friendly types, aren't they?" Krillin mused dazedly, as imaginary bluebirds of happiness circled his head.  He was still stunned from what had happened not half an hour before.  They had driven slowly through a small village, and a pretty blonde child had come out to stare at the shiny red car.  After a moment, she had waved to them to stop.  Then she had looked at the short man with piercing eyes, and told him that she didn't know why, but he was the one she was supposed to marry, and if he didn't come back and find her in a few years, she would have to find him, and she did **not **want to bother doing that, so he had better plan on returning to her.  Then she turned around and vanished into the cottage from whence she came.  Yamcha and Goku had enjoyed ribbing him over "his woman", but Krillin was unexpectedly happy.  Because of his severe lack of height, he had always doubted he would ever find a girl to be seriously interested in him – so even the prospect of a future interest gave him something to hope for.

Bulma sighed.  "Definitely not friendly.  Ah, well, what can a beautiful young woman on a quest do but be courageous, and hope that all works out for the best.  I imagine this is where I should get out.  I shall undertake the rest of my quest on foot."

"Miss Bulma, don't be silly.  We'll all go with you.  My Chi-Chi's in there, too.  This is where the baked bread-lemon smell stops," Goku said.

"Yeah, we're with you until the end!" added Krillin.  Piccolo the Younger and Yamcha nodded.  "At least until the end of the road," the small man amended, and gave one of his nervous laughs when he saw the green Demon glare at him in disgust.  "I was joking, truly, I was."

Bulma squared her chin.  Sooner or later, they were going to know why she'd come to Vegetable, but she was going to see how much later she could make any such disclosure.  "Really, Goku, you should call it aroma or scent, not smell.  Otherwise, it doesn't sound very flattering.  Very well, let us go onward, and brave the Land of Vegetable.  And…thank you all."

The flying cloud and its passenger and the convertible vehicle with its occupants moved on past the sign.  A mile down the road, they came to a second sign.  This one told them they were fools, and advised that they turn back before they were made into accordion files.  Bulma had been admiring the landscape until then, not that it looked all that much different from the uniformly green Kingdom of Blue-Silver-Red, which they'd just left, but she figured that if she might be living here, she had better find something to admire about it.  Then she saw something that made her insides turn to jelly.  "Oh, please, not another scary forest," she groaned, realizing what mighty wood this must be.  It stretched across the road, and as far as the eye could see.  The Forest of Misbehavior: boundary to the hidden Kingdom of Vegetable.  

"I don't like the looks of that place," Krillin said, whipping out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mopping his brow.  He had never seen such trees before; their leaves were a green so bright it would never be found in nature, and their bark was black as a night with no moon.

"It does appear to be a doughty wood indeed," said the Demon Prince, breaking his silence for the first time in over an hour.  He did not sound particularly frightened.

"If it's anything like the last forest, bring it on!"  Goku jumped into the conversation with his usual enthusiasm for battle.  "Maybe there will be more of those giant slimy worms, and we can have a contest to see who can toss them the furthest."

Yamcha blinked and turned pale.  He never wanted to see a giant slimy worm again.  The rotten things had made him, a strong fighter and a very masculine man, look like a **girl, **hadn't they?****

Seeing him blanch, Bulma patted his shoulder in a surreptitious, sympathetic manner.  "I don't think there are any of those nasty creatures in there," she whispered to him.  The thief shrugged, essayed a smile, and, after a moment, regained his composure.

"Let's go!" chanted the Spargatian a few times, and he requested Kintoun to speed up.

"It will not be said of the Desert – er – Forest, er – Yamcha, the reformed Bandit, that he was afraid of a challenge!" declaimed said personage, and the car matched the cloud's speed.

All too soon, they were at the place where the road met the trees in a dark, forbidding line.  Yet another sign awaited them.  Munchy! Munchy! Munchy!  We Like Human Crunchies.  Leave Now or Face the Consequences of Your Misbehavior.

"I mislike this," Bulma said.  She almost wished Father hadn't told her about the eligible bachelor who lived here.  If the entrance to the Kingdom was this spooky, what must the rest of it be like?  There was no way she would be living in a castle full of cobwebs and rats, absolutely no way.  She would sooner stay unwed forever.

Piccolo the Younger turned to her.  "Be not afraid, Miss Bulma.  We will protect you.  I came on this journey so that I would alleviate some of my boredom, and so far I have not been bored.  All has been as Goku promised.  I look forward to the mysteries that will unfold in the Forest, as well as the chance to fight something that will perchance be a greater challenge than worms.  Let us go on."

The beauty bit her lip, and agreed.  "Yes!  We'll go, but you had better protect me in a properly knightly manner."  Come to think of it, if Goku's vision was correct, they would all survive, so what was she worried about?  Well, possibly being killed by the wheel-shaped object, and there were still the Vegetables to contend with…and…she had better stop thinking about this, or she'd never be able to pay enough attention to her surroundings to attempt to defend herself in case something did happen.  

****  ****  ****

"You look exceptionally stupid hanging from that branch like a monkey, Cauli!" snorted Lady Lima, as she leaned against a huge black oak-like tree.  "What if the Prince should see you, or even worse, the Blue-Haired Woman?"  

The teenaged Elite growled.  "You take all the fun away, Sir Lady!"  He backflipped, and landed with a purposeful thump in front of the gorgeous brunette with the twisty-spiky bangs.  "Just what I always wanted to do, Human-sit."  He peered through the trees.  "They're coming in now – let's see what they think of the arrangements."

****  ****   ****

"I don't like this place."  Krillin looked up, down, sideways, and behind him as they entered the Forest.  "It's too dark, for one."

Bulma said nothing, but she squeezed over a bit closer to Yamcha in the front seat.  It _was_ very dark.  He smiled manfully, and straightened his back.  "It will be just fine, Miss Bulma," he said quietly, returning her kind reassurance from earlier.  

As it turned out, Yamcha was wrong, and the intrepid questers found this out rather rapidly when, without preamble, a wind started to whip up, and heavy, sharp-edged leaves to fall all over the vehicle.  "Hell!  I mean, dash it all!" the former bandit cursed as the leaves left razor marks on his skin.  "I knew I shouldn't have spoken."  Next to him, Bulma had her head down, rummaging in her knapsack, one arm up to protect her face from cuts.

Behind them, Krillin and Prince Piccolo were batting at the killer leaves without much efficiency.  "I take the utmost umbrage at this!" the green giant growled, and started aiming pinpoint ki blasts at them.  That worked, but the rain of leaves didn't cease.  "Thief, will you hurry up and get us out of here?"

"It's a little difficult to drive when you can't see, Prince Pickle!" Yamcha retorted.

"You shouldn't have said that…" Bulma said urgently, as she found the capsule she wanted.  She decapsulated it, and a giant, storm-resistant umbrella sprang up around the vehicle, protecting them from the razor leaves.

"Why not, milady?  Hi, that's a pretty impressive contraption!"  Yamcha reached up and adjusted the umbrella so it wasn't hanging over his eyes.

"She warns you not to insult me, because she understands that, as a rule, I do not like Humans, and especially not foolish ones such as yourself," answered the Demon.  "It would be easy for me to kill you, but as I am no idiot, and I comprehend you are needed for the future safety of Miss Bulma, I leave you alive."

"Well, thank you!" Yamcha said, voice heavy with sarcasm. 

"Stop being such **men**!" the blue-haired woman yelled as they jolted along the path.  "You don't have to be touchy over **every** little thing!  The leaves aren't hurting us now, but we still have a problem.  Goku's out there, and **he** has no protection.  So shelve your egos."

"Hmph," said Piccolo, but he leaned back against the seat as Krillin and Pu'ar breathed sighs of relief 

"I've got to adjust this umbrella so Goku can get under it," Bulma muttered, shifting around beneath her seatbelt so that she could maneuver the canvas into a better position.  "Goku!  What's happening to you?  Are you all right?" she called as loudly as she could over the whipping wind and the whapping of the leaves against the thick umbrella.

"Sure.  I'm fine!" the Spargatian replied, sounding as though he was a bit out of breath.  "I've got a few cuts, but I'll survive.  Whoa!"  There was a loud smacking sound, and then a thud-crunch-thud.  "Hey, you damn tree, let go of me!"

"Goku!" Bulma turned her attention back to Yamcha, who was trying to drive one-handed, and fight off the leaves that had suddenly seemed to figure out how to find their way below the giant umbrella.  "We have to help him!"

"By the Ones, are these things alive?"  The former Desert Bandit braked the Speed Warrior quickly as he spoke.  Bulma re-encapsulated the umbrella, and Yamcha backed them up amidst falling instruments of pain to the spot where they could see, just barely, Goku being held prisoner by a tree branch.  It had pinned him against the trunk, and he was having little success in freeing himself.  There were thin cuts all over his face and arms.

Piccolo the Younger leapt from the Speed Warrior, and raced over to the place where Goku was being restrained.  There he made a valiant attempt to pry off the branch that was crushing the young fighter.  Sadly, this did not work, as a second branch came down and hit him over the head.  Stunned, he fell to the ground amidst a welter of sharp green leaves.

"Noooo!" Bulma turned her head back and forth from Krillin to Yamcha.  "Help them!"  

The young man jumped out of the car, raised himself up proudly, and took a defensive position.  He seemed almost to be in meditation for a moment, and then, with a shout of "Ayiiiieeee!  Wolf Shadow Torque Twister!" he charged at the tree.  Sparks flew, and the large trunk shuddered, as whatever power he'd thrown at it impacted with the bark.   

Below him and to the side, Piccolo coped with a handful of fallen branches and the ever-menacing leaves.  Managing to overpower them with his ki, he struggled to his feet.  "You will not do that to me again!"

Just then, Bulma the Beautiful screamed.  One of the trees from the other side of the path had snuck upon her, and wrapped her in a viney embrace.  Krillin wheeled around, and though he knew it would be futile, tried his hardest to pry the vines away from the young woman as she was dragged from the Speed Warrior.  A branch in the stomach was his reward.  He fell out of the car, and over on his back with a grunt, and then popped back up.  "You won't stop me, tree!" he said with brave, if perhaps, unrealistic expectations – once he'd caught his breath.

"Holy Ones, this bastard is trying to eat me!" Goku looked down at his left arm, which now sported deep, bloody gash marks.  "I'll have to use my ki after all."

"Somebody DO something!"  Bulma demanded, as she was crushed flat against uncomfortable bark.  "It's nibbling the back of my shirt – how perverted is **that**?"

"We're trying!"  Yamcha answered, just before he was whacked on the chin by yet another branch.   "Lord Yamcha!" squeaked Pu'ar, flying to him and making little sounds of distress.

"Try harder!"  The young woman strained to get free, wondering if this would be the most opportune time to use her Exploding Nerve-Numbing Gas Capsule, if she could even manage to reach it.  No, it wouldn't be possible, because she couldn't even move her arms.  Drat a thousand times.

*****   *****

While the Beauty and her Five Protectors were fighting with the man-eating trees, not too far away, four warriors congregated.  "Listen to them squalling."  Prince Vegeta shook his head.  "They are pathetic.  I am considering letting the trees devour them, and then the world will no longer have to deal with their weakness and stupidity."

Nappa snickered.  Lady Lima smiled wolfishly.  Cauli guffawed.  The prince smirked.  Of course, he had no intention of leaving them to become tree mulch, but the thought had been an amusing one.

"Hell, let us go rescue the fools," he said.   "For heroes of prophecy, they are doing damnably badly already."  The prince kept it to himself, but he was thinking that perhaps the Book had some explaining to do.  He would have to taunt it a little when he got back.  He spun, and stalked through the trees, which wisely kept away from him, hearing the remaining three fighters following in silence.  Now was his chance to see what the Blue-Haired Woman looked like, before she saw him.

They came to the spot where all the activity was going on, and halted.  The prince looked down the lines of trees, and saw various beings trapped against trunks, fallen on the ground, or trying to use lower-level ki powers to attack their captors.  

"I am never going to look at a tree the same way again – if I live through this!" came a sweet yet shrill voice off to Prince Vegeta's left, and he turned to look…and it felt to him as though someone had turned an hourglass upside down in his stomach and temporarily stopped time.  His tail twitched thrice.

_Damn it.  She is beau…no, no, she is not.  I did not just think that.  Nay, she is the most unappealing female I have ever_ _set eyes on_.  He viewed the Woman, in her tan shirt and trousers, bound by vines, her braided aqua hair unkempt, and something…twisted inside him.  Something not easily controlled and therefore hateful.  Something he did not understand in the least.

"She has an appealing appearance," Lima whispered to him.  

"She does not," he answered in his darkest voice.  Lima merely smiled at him.  "Well, why do we hesitate?" he asked the others gruffly.  "We save them now so they will aid us later."  He strode forward, and stopped in front of the Blue-Haired Woman.  The leaves skittered out of his path as he went, for the trees knew he had the power to raze the whole forest if he chose.  "I see that you are the Blue-Haired Woman," he said.  What he thought was, _What kind of idiotic statement was that, imbecile?   Of course that is who she is_.

She gave him a blank stare, and continued her efforts to free herself.  "Who in the world are you?  Never mind that, just get me out of this mess!"

**_She_** is_ ordering **me** around?  Who does she think she is?  What an attitude._   The prince stepped back, and said, "Let her go."  The vines uncoiled, and disappeared behind the tree.

Bulma stumbled forward, rubbing at her arms.  "Thank you.  How did you do that?  Are you a Wizard?  But what about my companions?"

There was a sudden flash of light and a sizzling sound from the other side of the road, and everyone turned to stare.  "I hate to do harm to nature, but you have to learn that it's not right for you to hurt people who mean you no harm!"  Goku fell away from the tree, which was now missing a few branches, and landed on his feet, wiping at a blood-covered face.  Piccolo, Krillin, and Yamcha, who had also been busy taking care of as many leaves and branches as they could, lined up next to him.  Pu'ar hovered slightly behind them. 

The leaves stopped falling at a gesture from the prince.  "You did not save any of them," he said to Nappa, who was now standing to his right.  

"I didn't need to, my Prince.  As you saw, they were able to do it all on their own."

Bulma, to the prince's left, almost fell over.  _That tall bald man called the short one_ m_y **Prince**?_  _So **he** is the Handsome Prince of the_ _Vegetables?  These are the icky were-monkeys_?  She heard a sound and turned to see two more – a brown-haired youth, and a young, black haired female Vegetable.  Both were smiling at her.  No, they were not icky in the least.   They were fierce and sharp faced and of dangerous mien, but they were all attractive.  She wasn't sure she'd call the Vegetable Prince "handsome", however, not at first sight.  Perhaps his looks grew on one as time passed.  Those glamour magazines were all the same; if a person had a lot of money or was of high rank, they automatically became ten times better looking than they actually were.

She glanced at the prince while pretending she wasn't looking, so she could garner a second impression of him.  He wasn't much taller than the lady were-monkey; in fact, he might even be shorter than **she** herself was.  He was dressed in some sort of tight black armor and white boots, with a white chest protector.  It showed off how muscular and well proportioned he was, for such a small person.  _Hmmmm.  That's a definite plus factor on the Eligible Male Scale_.  He had a furry belt wrapped around his waist…no, wait, she decided, that must be his tail.  The three "non-bald" Vegetables all had very odd, spiky hair, quite reminiscent of Goku's.  The prince's hair stood up and away from his head, starting from what seemed to be a natural widow's peak.  She wondered how it could stay up in that manner; it veritably defied gravity.  He had somewhat of a bulging forehead, on which the veins stood out sharply, and a certain ferocious, intense quality that intrigued her very much.  She was interrupted in her tabulation of his worth on the all-important Scale when the shortest of the Vegetables spoke.

"Who the hell are **you**?"

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Ah, Dear Readers, 'tis not much of a hanger of cliffs, but it was the best place to end this chapter that the Author could find.  Thank you as always for your attention, and I, Timaeus, the Unhappy Narrator, shall return to my new, regularly scheduled brooding. 

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Thanks for reading, reviewing, what have you!  ^_^ 


	9. At Last, My Sour Prince

A/N:  I don't own Dragonball, but I promise to be kind to the characters I've borrowed.  Well, more or less.  I do have to make fun of them a little now and then, though I love them all. ^_~

Thank you to amanda, Fya85, Renee the Rabid Squirrel, soyamiso, and TigerQueen (I like the idea of the chocolate ^__^) for the reviews for the last chapter – they were much appreciated!  So sorry this took such a long time again – writer's block is evil!

Renee the Rabid (Mindreading ^_~) Squirrel:  I've been thinking about lowering the rating for a while, because it's not like the characters are going to curse as much as an R rating allows, or necessarily be all that violent, but what's holding me back is that I'm going to have a sort of lemon later in the story, and there will be some nudity also.  So, just to be safe, I guess I'll keep it here for now – especially with everything that's been going on at this site.  I reserve the right to change my mind, though! ^_~

Prince Quest, A Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter Nine:  At Last, My Sour Prince

Welcome, Conscientious Readers.  At the end of our last Chapter, the Prince of the Vegetables had just posed a question to someone as to who the hell they were.  Ahem.  Pardon my impolite language, please.  To whom was he speaking so rudely?  If 'twas to Bulma-the-Beautiful, I hope she gives him a good punch in the jaw.  But I speak hastily.  Let us go and discover the truth of this matter together.

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_Ones, what's **his **problem?_  Bulma turned her head sharply, astonished at the rudeness of the prince's question, and saw that he was speaking to Goku, who had finished mopping the blood off his face with his forearm, and was smiling with amiable wariness at the newcomers to their presence.  In fact, all of the Vegetables were standing there with equally thunderstruck expressions.  _What can be the meaning of this? They're all acting as if they'd just seen a ghoul._

"Me?  I'm Goku of Hill-on-the Pond, Spargate."

"You may make your home there, but you are no Spargatian.  I do not understand what you are doing here on this planet, but you are one of our people."  The prince frowned and turned his attention to the bald giant.  "He looks exactly like Bardock, therefore he must be Kakarrot, the younger son who was sent away as an infant because he was weak and this Earth is the place to which he was dispatched." 

"One of your people?  No, I'm a Human," Goku insisted.  "You're a Vegetable."

"A Vegetable?  What in the name of verminous slaves is that supposed to mean?  Is that what you Earthling idiots are calling us?  We are Saiyans, fool**.**"

"Well, you are from the Land of Vegetable, so why wouldn't you be called Vegetables?  It would make more sense that way," Bulma pointed out, watching with interest the way the prince's forehead veins grew larger as he became agitated.

"No, it would not.  We are Saiyans.  It does not matter what our kingdom is called; the names are related, and I owe you no explanations."

"I see.  Rather, I don't see, but perhaps you can explain it to me later, even if you don't want to.  That would be the honorable thing to do."

"Hmph," the prince replied, thinking he would explain absolutely nothing to her, honor or no.  So what if he liked disheveled hair on a female?  It gave her no right to call him a Vegetable.  "Nappa, you may speak to them.  I cannot be bothered."

"Kakarrot, do you remember your childhood?" the one Bulma thought she'd heard referred to as Nappy asked.

"Sure I do.  I lived with my grandpa until he was killed by a horrible monster.  But my name's Goku."

Nappa's eyebrows furrowed.  "What about your parents?" 

"I didn't have any.  Grandpa found me when I was a baby, and took care of me."

"Ahhh," the other nodded, comprehending.  "We used to send ones like you away from the planet on missions.  It is obvious you did not complete yours, and just as well for us that you did not."

"Huh?  What mission?"

"Never mind that," the prince snarled, drawing a finger across his throat in a very final gesture of negation.  "Bardock can fill you in on what you need to know.  Now that you are here, let us be going.  We would like to eat our dinner. Deal with these dolts, Nappa."  He turned and walked away from them.

Bulma watched him go, admiring his graceful stride.  _Not bad_.  She added another percentage point to the scale.  He seemed to have a bit of an ego problem, but then, he was a prince.  He couldn't be expected to be as humble as she was.  If she decided to keep him, she'd work on that humility factor.   She subtracted two points.

'Dinner?"  Goku practically jumped forward.  "Where?"

"Go-kuuu," Bulma hissed, glaring at him.  "Where's your sense of social correctness?"

"Well, they aren't going to starve us, are they?" Goku replied out of the corner of his mouth.

"No, we are not going to starve you, unless you are too slow, and then I will throw you into the dungeons from whence you will never again emerge," Prince Vegeta answered, casting a withering eye at the lower-class Saiyan.

"I hope you are joking."  Bulma walked up to the pointy-haired prince, and poked a finger at his chest.  "You can't expect Goku to have courtly manners, since he's from Spargate, but **you** should know how to be polite to visitors."

Three hastily stifled laughs came from behind the prince.  He whirled and glared at them, and the sounds of fake coughing resounded throughout the clearing.  The pretty scientist admired his assets once again through lowered lashes, a secretive smile quirking her lips.  

"I do not have to be polite to anyone if I choose not to be," he told her, turning his head just slightly to look at her while keeping his back to her.  "I could give you back to the trees if I wished to.  If it were not for that stupid Prophecy, understand this; I would kill you all.  And now you had better hurry and keep up with us, or you can sleep in the dungeons."  He faced forward, and leapt into the sky. 

Nappa's gaze rested thoughtfully on them all for a few seconds, and then he said, "I'd advise you to follow in your flying contraption as quickly as possible.  Prince Vegeta's threats are not idle ones."  He and the other two Saiyans launched themselves, and then turned to stare down at those who were still standing stock still below.  "What are you waiting for, the Doom of the Last Days?  Bestir yourselves!"  Then the three of them flew away.

Goku's face darkened.  "I don't think he'd find it as easy to throw us back to the trees as he thinks it would be."  

"They can fly," Bulma said, half to herself.  "How impressive."

"So," the Demon said, obviously not as impressed as was the Lord Scientist's daughter.  "I can fly also.  It is not that difficult."

"Well, but I already knew that many Demons are capable of flying.  I had no idea that were-monkeys could fly.  I thought they simply turned into big apes, and that was all they did.  Though, to my way of thinking, that is quite enough. Still, flying might turn out to be very useful."  She added back the two points she'd subtracted, plus one more, and decided to also add another for the prince's choice of form-hugging clothing.

"Were-monkeys?"  Krillin's jaw dropped.  "That's what they are?"

"Yes," Bulma replied, a bit defiantly.  "And your point is?"

"Um, nothing.  I was just wondering why you wanted to go to all this trouble to visit them, that's all."

"That's none of your business!"  She could feel a blush coming on.  "Anyhow, we should be thinking about something else they said, namely that Goku's a were-monkey. They were sure of it.  You do look like they do, spiky hair and all.  Only you don't have a tail…but they didn't seem to notice that.  Is it possible they could they be wrong?"

"I'm not a Saiyanin, or whatever he was calling them.  I did have a tail when I was younger - though it disappeared one night when I was asleep."

Bulma raised her eyebrows at him.  "You **have** to be a Saiyan then, especially since you're said to bear an amazing resemblance to one of their people, the one named Barhop, or something like that.  But, how could a tail disappear overnight?"  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yamcha motioning her toward the Speed Warrior, a pained expression on his face.  They resumed their former seats with Piccolo the Younger choosing to fly beside them this time while Goku replaced the Demon in the car.  Yamcha pushed a button, and the vehicle zoomed into the air.

Goku answered her question once they were on their way.  "I had a dream that night that an old green guy – hey, now that I think of it, he must have been a Demon because he looked a lot like Piccolo the Younger here – anyway, an old green guy with a staff came and told me that my tail would cause some problems, and if I didn't mind, he'd just remove it."

The Demon gave him a sharp, searching look at the mention of the "old green guy", but said nothing.  Goku went on.  "So, he cut it off with some kind of spell, and I woke up the next morning, and it was really gone.  Pretty realistic dream, wasn't it?"

"That was no dream," Piccolo the Younger said.  "The green personage you saw was Earth's Guardian, and one of the Ones, the Lords who rule our universe.  He obviously felt that your tail was a danger to you or to others."  

"Whoa!"  Yamcha took his eyes off the fast-flying Saiyan ahead of them, and angled his head in Goku's direction.  "You met a deity!   I knew there was something special about you."

Bulma huffed.  "I'm the special one around here," she told him with narrowed eyes.  "Though, of course Goku is special himself.  I won't deny the obvious."

Yamcha laughed weakly.  "Of course, you are special, Miss Bulma.  There's no one like you on Earth, that's for sure."

"Good.  But I still haven't met a deity."  She shrugged in a genteel manner.  "I suppose it's for the best.  If the Ones visit us in our dreams, then they'd see me with nighttime hair."  She changed the subject abruptly.  "Goku, weren't you upset when your tail vanished?"

"Nah.  It was kind of hard to walk straight for a few days, because I totally lost my balance, but after that, I was fine."

"Oh.  I wonder; did you all hear what that prince said about a prophecy?  And I didn't think anything of it before, but he seemed to know my identity when first we spoke.  And he rather scornfully referred to us as heroes.  Does this all tie into the ways in which we all met on this day?" 

"Yes, and yes," was the Demon's answer.  "It is invariable that when a Human goes on a quest and meets bystanders who become companions, a Prophecy is at the root of it all.  So said my Sire, when he read to me as a child, and so it must be."

"Whoa."  Krillin leaned forward, accidentally bashing the place where his nose would have been had he been the possessor of a nose on Bulma's neck as she leaned back and stretched out a kink in her upper back.  "Ouch!  Sorry, Miss Bulma."

"Hmph.  I think you hurt yourself more than you hurt me," Bulma said, checking to see if the small man's nose-free zone was all right.  "I wonder what sort of prophecy it is, and how we are all involved?"

"I suppose they'll tell us at the castle, won't they, Lord Yamcha?" Puar squeaked, fluttering a bit in the wind.  The reformed bandit pursed his mouth in thought, and then gave an indecisive nod. 

"The castle – speaking of it, there it is now!  Ooh, it's gorgeous, in a dark, creepy, entirely masculine, military sort of way."  Bulma eyed the imposing brown stone building as they approached.  It was very large, tall, and spread out in eight different directions from a cylindrical center.  Before a long walkway waited the four Saiyans.  She was really going to have to work to remember to call them that.  Saiyans.  Saiyans.  Saiyans.  There.  But it still made no sense.

They touched down, and Yamcha brought the car to a stop, just before the formidable quartet.  Piccolo the Younger floated cross-legged next to the vehicle, an assessing expression on his face.

"You are too damned slow.  Put that thing away and hurry," the prince told them as he turned away and began to walk up the stairs.

Bulma stuck out her tongue at his back.  Nappa, noticing, almost swallowed the end of his mustache he was chewing.  Yamcha and the others removed themselves from the car, and it was encapsulated.  All was silence, punctuated by a strong feeling of impatience radiating from the prince.  Up the stone walkway they hurried, as per the prince's snappish request.

There was a set of three wide stairs leading to a large oaken door, above which was the crest of an angry were-monkey beating its chest.  Large, blocky letters in a language Bulma did not recognize set off the design.  She felt her heart beat a little faster.  _It's destiny,_ she told herself.  _I shouldn't be so nervous.  But_ _this world, this culture_ – _it's not at all what I'm used_ _to_.  She tensed slightly as the door opened, and two very, very tall, very wide hunks of muscle looked out at the group of locals and travelers.

The prince ignored them as he climbed the steps and passed through the doorway.  The other three Saiyans hung back, and then the lady Saiyan nodded at Bulma and Piccolo the Younger to move forward.  With them, she ascended the stairs, and the door guards moved back to let them all through.  Bulma's mind was ticking away as she observed their conduct.  Social precedence: much the same here as elsewhere.  She heard the others follow behind them until they were all in the hall, and then she relaxed a bit and began to look around.  

_Oh, wow! _ That was her first thought as she turned her gaze hither and yon.  _How beautiful it is – in that same masculine, dark, spooky way, of course._  _It doesn't look like anything I'd see at the Emperor's Palace, but it is still worthy of admiration_. _It doesn't_ _seem like_ _there would be rats_ _here after all, an_d _I'm very glad_ _of that_.  She tried not to look like a yokel as she took in the high ceiling, pale bronze walls, a long, brown-carpeted entryway with three arched recesses on either side – and two more Saiyans, dressed formally in red capes, waiting at the end of the carpet near a high wall decorated with tapestries of mountain scenes.  _Are those his parents?_  _They came to meet me?  I'm honored._

The group shuffle-stepped forward due to their differing stride lengths, until they arrived in front of the regal pair.  "Father," Prince Vegeta said.  "Mother.  Here are the Blue-Haired Woman and her Companions, whose names I do not know nor give a damn if I ever know."  The bearded were-monkey to whom the younger Vegeta bore an amazing resemblance and the tiny female next to him both regarded their son gravely, and then turned their gazes back to their new guests.  The prince spoke once more, a sadistically amused smile crossing his dark features. "Blue-Haired Woman and Companions, bow down before their Royal Majesties, King Vegeta, and Queen Cressika." Everyone bowed, except for Piccolo the Younger, who merely lowered his head.

"Be welcome to the Kingdom of Vegetable and the Palace of the Seventeen Hundred Winds, Blue-Haired Woman and Companions," the King of the Saiyans said in a sonorous voice which Bulma thought was very sexy…though she did wish they'd stop calling her The Blue Haired-Woman.  She did have a name, which she was planning to make them all use, or else.  Then she watched as he did a double take.  "Turles, where is your uniform, and how did you become so pale?" he snapped.

"Father, that is not Turles," the short, angry prince said in a short, angry tone.   "He is Bardock's lost son, Kakarrot, one of the ones with low-level power readings.  Radditz told me of him.  It can be no other.  Somehow he ended up here, and survived, but his programming malfunctioned.  How ironic.  If it had not, we would not be here ourselves."

"I see.  How fortunate."  The king yawned.  "Well, have someone take him to Radditz and have him introduce his brother to his family.  They can see if anything can be made of him as a warrior.  It is my concern no longer."

"But why does he have no tail?" the queen suddenly asked, the ferocious but polite social smile she'd adopted leaving her face.  "Unless…do you hide it somewhere, son of Bardock?"

Goku scratched the back of his head.  "Uh, Piccolo the Younger just told me a few minutes ago that Earth's Guardian cut it off when I was younger, Your Majesty.  It hasn't grown back."

Every Saiyan in the room winced.  "That is abominable," the king growled.  "However, I will not missay the will of the Ones.  We have learned that everything here happens for a reason.  You will be unable to change to your other form, but as you have obviously made do with this lack, it will probably make little difference to you at this time."

"Other form?  The were-monkey, right?  But what's a were-monkey, your Kingship?" The Spargatian who wasn't a Human after all looked to the king for an answer.

"When the moon is full, we have the ability to change into giant apes, taller than trees and wider than ourselves by far."  The king eyed Goku as though he were some sort of lowly yet intriguing worm.  "It is one of our greatest battle strengths."

"A giant ape?  Then that means…that means I…damn it…I was the monster who killed my grandpa."  Goku bowed his head in anguish while the other Saiyans looked on in blank confusion.  "He told me never to look at the full moon, and I never did, until I accidentally saw it one night.  I don't remember what happened after that.  He was dead when I woke up."

"Oh, Goku, I'm so sorry.  But you couldn't have known," Bulma said, wishing she could pat her friend on the back and tell him all would be well.  However, one couldn't offer such gestures of comfort to a proud fighting man in a testosterone-filled setting like this; he'd be certain to lose face among his fellows.

"These matters are not uncommon," the queen added, not without sympathy.  "We must all be trained from a very early age to live with that form and keep it under control.  It does not come naturally to us to do so.  Please, feel not so much regret at this chance happening.  We are violent and we live to fight.  It is how we are, and have always been.  Accidents happen when we are strong and those who surround us are fragile."  She clapped her hands, and three smaller Saiyans, presumably servants, appeared in front of them.  "You must all be fatigued from your journey.  Let these ones direct you to some refreshment."

The Spargatian's eyes glowed, and a happier expression returned to his face as he made an attempt to shrug off his feelings of melancholy.  "Food!  Thank you!  Your Majesties." 

"Guide him to Bardock or Radditz, whomever it is you find first, and the others to the places appropriate to their stations.  Go now.  We will meet again," King Vegeta said, now looking much like he had a toothache for some reason.

Bulma turned and started to follow the crowd, but a heavy hand on her shoulder stayed her.  "Wait, please."

"See you later, Miss Bulma!  I hope you get some good food!" Goku said, and was gone, as the servants split up the group and her companions disappeared in various directions through the arched recesses, which she realized now were cleverly disguised doorways.

Nappa was the only one left in the hall besides Bulma and the royal family and he removed his hand from the young woman's shoulder when she returned to her former position.  "Be at ease," he said, and at a nod from the queen, made off down a left hand corridor at the side of the tapestry-covered wall.

The blue-haired woman swiveled her gaze back to the king, queen, and prince, wondering what they would say to her.  She felt her stomach start to churn again as she watched them watch her with three pairs of dark, intense, unreadable eyes.  What would they say to her?  What should she say to them?

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And, so, after a transitional Chapter, I welcome you back.  I promise you, I shall be very angry if the Royal Vegetables are unkind to our heroine.  I will…you again?

(Prince Vegeta appears, uncloaked this time)  You will what?  I thought I warned you sufficiently last time we spoke.  I do not want to have to tell you another time; stop casting aspersions on my behavior.  Why should you care how I treat the Blue-Haired Woman?  She is not for you.

Timaeus:  (Bows head)  Aye, I know, I am unworthy of her beauty and goodness.  However, I expect that such an incomparable woman should be treated with the respect due her station in life.

Prince Vegeta:  Hmph.  The tale is not done yet.  We will see how I treat her in the end.  For the moment, I do not know the creature, she's an alien, and she is being forced on me.  How do you think I should feel?

Timaeus:  You have a point, Handsome but Cruel Prince Vegeta.  I shall be silent on the matter unless events dictate otherwise.

Prince Vegeta:  You would be wise to keep your counsel, and thus keep your head.  (Disappears)

(Timaeus closes his eyes for a moment, perhaps in embarrassment, and then opens them wide, jester fashion, to smile at the Audience.)  Well, and was that not some fine, unexpected entertainment for you?  I hope I will see you again for our next Chapter, in which Prince Vegeta and his presumed future spouse learn a little more about one another, and Goku meets his family.  Thank you as always for your attention, and may all the clouds you see today remind you of cute, fluffy bunnies.  

A/N:  Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!  This chapter was more about throwing in some explanations for things I hadn't yet explained than it was about action or romance, as you saw.  Next chapter will hopefully be more exciting.  And, nope, I'm not making Nappa evil in this fic.  He's better in the manga than in the anime, and who knows how he or Radditz would have developed as characters if they hadn't served Freeza for so many years. 

Have a good day! ^_^


	10. Of Weremonkeys and Prophecies

A/N:  I don't own Dragonball, but I'd like to own Vegeta. ^__^  I do own Queen Cressika, and that's worth…I have no clue.

Thanks so very much for the reviews: Sujakata – Yay, another new reader!  I like your name.  Thank you! ^_^  Renee of the great pen name – I'm glad you like the thing with Nappa's character -  I can't help it – I automatically feel a little protective of the characters most people hate just because they're not especially attractive or whatever.  I'm such a sap! ^_~  soyamiso – if that wasn't an eloquent review, I don't know what was. That said so much!  Now, **I** give terrible reviews.  I can sit and try to say what I want about a story for an hour, and still not get it right.  Otherwise, I'd be reviewing people a lot more than I do. ^_^;;  Anyway, to you all and anyone else who's reading, I appreciate you very much! (runs away before she descends into further sappiness)

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter Ten:  Of Were-monkeys and Prophecies 

Ah, Dearest Readers.  There you are again, and here I am again as well.  As you will remember from our last chapter, Bulma-the-Beautiful met the King and Queen of the icky were-monkeys…oh, my, now she's got me calling them that.  That's not good.  I should say instead that she met the magnificent King and Queen of the noble were-monkeys.  You don't see anyone behind me looking angry, do you?  No?  Well, that is a relief.  In any case, these characters met, and were about to speak to one another when the chapter ended.  I shall let them do that very thing whilst you sip your tea.

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Bulma was beginning to feel like her face was going to freeze into a permanent mask as she waited for any member of the trio of Saiyans to speak.  There were few things more embarrassing than appearing before royalty in your travel clothing with unkempt hair.  She sighed inwardly.  They would burn holes in her at this rate with those eyes of theirs.

"Blue-Haired Woman."  

Bulma looked over at the prince, who had finally been the one to shatter the gloomy silence.  "My name is Bulma-the-Beautiful Briefs, if it **please** you, or just the Honorable Bulma, or Miss Bulma.  Not Blue-Haired Woman."

"Brooma?  Feh. What kind of name is that?" 

"BULMA.  It's a family name, meaning – oh, never mind what it means.  Still, you **should** be able to pronounce it correctly."

"Why should I bother?"

"Because you don't want to seem like a crass idiot, that's why!"

"If you want to be killed on the instant, keep screeching at me, lowly Human." 

He turned his back to her, as he had earlier.  Bulma closed her eyes and counted to ten, and then ten once more.  _He's awful!  So rude and haughty.  I am taking off twelve points for his behavior.  Any more, and I'll have to consider him a loss and go home, but not before I find out what this prophecy is.  I'm very curious about that._  "I'm only pointing out the truth to you.  And if you kill me, your prophecy, whatever it is, will be void.  Nyah!"

King Vegeta interrupted them with a snort. "No one will be killing anyone here.  Human, come share a meal with us, and we shall tell you of the Prophecy and the Book."

With a small sigh, Bulma let her anger subside.  She had no one who was capable of defending her against the Saiyans anyway, so she was going to have to play it smart and be as polite as possible.  At the moment, they viewed her as a lower class of person, and that sat ill with her.  They might be an especially strong race, but that didn't make them better than someone as smart and as gorgeous as she was.  She followed where the three led, through a curtained-off passage to the left hand side of the hall.  Here there were guards as well, two of them.  They both stared at her curiously as she passed by in the wake of their superiors.  One right turn later, and they were at a marvelous flight of marble stairs, reddish-tan in color.  Up they went, the young woman beginning to feel more and more out of place in her surroundings with her casual clothing and knapsack.  Two floors and one confusing, twisty passage later, they arrived at an open door through which enticing aromas were emitting.  They went inside.

****   ****   ****

While Bulma was being shown to her destination, Goku had been taken down a corridor, and from there, down a level to what he assumed was the basement.  He walked after the silent servant with questions swirling through his brain.  _A father?  I have a father?  And maybe more relatives besides.  It's unbelievable.  I hope Miss Bulma will be all right with those Saiyans.  That prince looked like he wanted to hurt her.  He'd better not try anything, or I'll make him pay._

"Here you are," said the servant.  "Go inside now, I have more to do than just stand around with you all day.  Bardock won't eat you."  He walked away, leaving Goku staring at a gray metal door, which was open only a crack.

Goku scratched his head.  Well, nothing ventured meant he'd stand out here all day and get hungry.  He knocked on the door.

"Come in quickly, so you can leave just as quickly, whoever you are!" a not unpleasant-sounding tenor voice called.  

"Okay, I'm coming in!"  Not the greatest welcome he'd ever had.  The Spargatian pushed the door wide, and went in, and almost fell over in shock, for sitting at a workbench was a man who could have been his twin.  Hair, face, everything was eerily similar, except for the scars that slashed down his face, one on each side.  His skin was darker also, but the resemblance to himself – amazing.

"Turles?  What the hell happened to you?  Why are you wearing those damn ugly clothes?" the Saiyan asked him, his black eyes suspicious.  "No, wait, you're not Turles…could it be?  You're…"

"Who's this Turles guy everyone keeps talking about?" Goku interrupted.  "I'm not him. My name's Goku, but the king asked me the same thing.  I guess he must look like me a lot, huh?"

The Saiyan shook his head in amazement. "A lot does not even begin to measure it.  You look near as much like him as you do to me, which can only mean one thing – you are Kakarrot, my lost son, and the time of the Prophecy is at hand."  He stood up.  "I have had visions of you before, but you were younger then.  I did not know you were on this Earth, though I should have suspected.  How else would you arrive here to help us?"  He pointed to a chair opposite the workbench.  "Well, sit down over there while I finish fixing my armor.  Damn breastplate's got a dent in it again."  He picked up a small hammer-like instrument and began tapping on the object on the table.

Goku went and sat down with a thump._  This Bardock man really is my father.  I never thought about what it would be like to have a papa of my own.  Until I met Chi-Chi, I was used to being alone once Grandpa…died.  Wait – Chi-Chi!  I forgot about her.  Uh oh.  _He sniffed the air.  All he could smell at the moment was smoke from a fire that was burning elsewhere in the room, but he knew she was around here someplace, maybe even in the palace.  _I've got_ _to find_ _her!  _"Um, father?"

"What, boy?"

"My wife's here somewhere, but I don't know where.  Have you seen a lady with long black hair and a young child in the palace?"

"A Human?"

"Half-Human, but she looks all-Human."

"That sounds like the new cook Radditz hired last week.  She braved the Carnivorous Trees with a frying pan, and made them cower before her.  Then she came to the castle and said that she needed employment where her talents would be appreciated.  I haven't seen much of her or her whelp since then.  Radditz is your older brother, by the way, and Turles is your cousin, my sister's son."

Goku blinked.  "I'm glad she's here, but I don't understand why she came to Vegetable, out of any place in the world she could have chosen."

Bardock gave his armor one more tap, and got to his feet, pushing back the bench as he did so.  "What I'd like to know is why the girl left you in the first place."

Goku rocked back on his heels. "Uh.  It was because she thought I fought too much and didn't stay at home like I should.  She said it was a bad influence on Gohan.  He's our son."

"I'm pleased to hear that you are a Saiyan at heart, though you have a way about you that is not at all warlike.  It's your face, boy; you have a stupid Human expression pasted on it."

"I thought I was a Human until just a little while ago," Goku answered.  "My grandpa told me I used to have a mean face and was a bad, angry child when I was really young, but that I hit my head on a rock when I fell off a cliff, and it changed me into a happy child."

The older Saiyan winced.  "Brain damage, undoubtedly.  I've heard of that happening before.  In the old days, they would have put you down for that. You'll have to adjust to things around here if you plan to stay, and that means acting like a true warrior."

"That'll be no problem for me.  I like to fight.  Can we go find my Chi-Chi now?"

Bardock shrugged.  "Why not?  I'll tell you about the Prophecy on the way to the kitchens."

****   ****   ****

Bulma was in a state of near shock as she sat at the table in the King's Private Dining Room.  _They all eat as much as Goku.  It's astounding.  _Over the past half hour since they'd entered the room, there had been no conversation, but truly astounding amounts of food had disappeared.  As for herself, she had eaten more than enough of the delicious and varied meal, and had mentioned the supreme talent of their chef.  All she'd received in reply was a smile from the queen, and the sounds of food being devoured at a speedy rate.  Oh, well, at least they had much better table manners than Goku did.  The queen had even pointed her to a room where she could freshen up before dinner was served, meaning that they weren't complete barbarians.  She sipped her wine, and waited for them to finish, hoping it would not be too long before she got to hear about why she was part of one of their people's prophecies.  

The king put down his fork at last.  "You want to learn of the Prophecy, do you?"  Taking the Human girl's assent for granted, he went on.  "In our family, we have had for some centuries a magical Book that gives us hints as to the future.  Written by a mad priest long dead, it continues to aid us during times of difficulty.  It has warned us of dangers that would have otherwise wiped out the entire Saiyan race.  We found our way to this planet with the help of the Book, yet our earlier troubles are not consigned to the past.  Do you know much of our arrival on this Earth?"

Bulma shook her head.  "I know that you were referred to as the Strong Men, you came from a warlike planet, you were escaping from a tyrant with extraordinary powers, and you took these wooded territories where no others dared to live for your own."  She deliberately left out her knowledge of the fact that the king had been defeated in a game of cards shortly after his arrival.

"Ah.  Yes.  Well, we came here after a long period of time in which we were forced, because we were not strong enough to rebel, to purge planets of all life for the ever-powerful Freeza.  He is a bastard of bastards, born of a cold, lizard-like race.  We had no plans to leave our planet Vegetasei, but only considered ways in which we could defeat the monster that held us hostage.  It was twenty-one years ago that Bardock returned from a patrol, cursed with tormented visions of the future.  He tried to tell me that Freeza was planning to annihilate us all, but I did not listen at that time, in my pride.  Nor did I consult the Book.  It was as if it did not occur to me.  It was only later that I understood the nature of Bardock's curse.  He could tell us of his visions, but no one would believe him.  Even now, if we are not reminded of his abilities by my mate, who seems to be the only one even temporarily immune, we forget."  He paused briefly in order to drain his wine glass then resumed speaking.

"Somehow, the Book found its way to the queen by supernatural means, and forced her to read its words.  When she saw them, she realized that Bardock's words were true, and brought this to my attention.  We made plans, but the arrival of Freeza on our planet delayed them.  He had heard rumors that we were restless and on the verge of rebellion, and so he asked for the training of the prince.  I did not know what else to do, for we needed to buy time, and I realized that he would kill us all on the instant if he was not given his way.  My only son, I lent to him."  His eyes filled with shadows as he said these words, and he breathed a harsh sigh.

"Go on, old man, if you really think she needs to hear this sordid tale," Prince Vegeta said.

The queen shifted in her chair. "I think she must hear some of it, for the Book tells us the entire future of all Saiyans depends on her and the Five Companions.  We will have to trust her."  

Bulma closed her eyes, attempting to bring herself back to some semblance of calm and normalcy.  Her heart was beating far too hard at the moment. _Their entire future depends on me, a rustic who's really a Saiyan, a Demon Prince, a former bandit, a former pizza deliveryman, and a small, flying shapeshifter?  Now I can't leave - at least not until this is all over and done with.  Drat.  I don't want to be stuck helping violent people who think I'm lowly.  That's just tacky, and they shouldn't expect it of me.  They're fortunate I'm so kind and gently bred, and can't stand the thought of unfortunates in trouble.  It's the only reason I am going to stay.  I wonder if I could get them to let me study a cross-section of their population while I'm here.  I'm going to need something practical to take back with me, when, if, if, **when** I go, something that will have made this journey worthwhile._

The prince shrugged.  "Tell her."  He folded his arms across his chest and stared at Bulma with cold eyes.  She glared back at him.

The king sighed and began again. "Very well.  My son was taken hostage by Freeza, and trained in his ways.  We knew we had little time to save our people, so we began to send them away in ships, a thousand or so at a time.  Our population was never large, so we hoped that we would be able to allow everyone to escape to a planet with a climate not unlike our own.  So, it was here that the ships were guided, while the queen and I and a few others planned how to rescue the prince.  It was six months before we found a way to retrieve him, but Nappa, Radditz, Bardock, and a team of three others snatched him from one of the tyrant's bases while on a purging mission and fled with him.  By that time, Vegetasei was empty of all life.  I do not know what happened then, but I can only imagine Freeza blew it to pieces in his anger.  And that is why we now inhabit these lands, though our tenure here is most unstable."

"You were lucky to escape this icky lizard, weren't you?"  Bulma asked the prince.

"You know nothing, and we have escaped nothing."

"Well!  I was simply expressing concern.  See if I do that again."  A slight movement to her right caught her eye, and she saw that the queen was smiling at her, seemingly pleased.  _She likes it when I answer him sharply?  _

"Human female," continued the king, "let me tell you of the Prophecy now, and you will see why my son is so cynical.  For, indeed, we have not escaped the Greatest Evil, and it is even now on its way to us.  It was a surprise to me that Freeza did not pursue us, but indeed he did not.  As soon as we had become settled here and rebuilt our palace, we brought out the Book again.  The Prophet ghost who writes it warned us that our days would be pleasant until the twenty-sixth year of the prince's existence.  He insisted that the prince wait to mate until the arrival of the Blue-Haired Woman, who would be coming to find him along with the Five Companions shortly before the Greatest Evil descended upon us."

"What? You've known I was coming here for **twenty years**?  That hardly seems possible.  I knew nothing about the prince until my father showed me a magazine article yesterday.  How eerie.  Just a second - wait to mate?  What exactly do you mean by that?"

"He means that the Book says that I have to mate with you or no one.  And it has been enforced most strictly by the Ones."  The prince stared at her blackly as he spit out the words. 

Bulma thought all this was a bit much to take in at one time.  "Mate?  As in marry?"  So, she had a ready-made husband if she wanted, and she would never have expected that to happen.  She thought she would at least have needed to charm him, not that the Ones would have already selected her for him.  And he wasn't pleased by it at all.  She wasn't sure she was either.  He'd lost a lot of points on the Eligible Male Scale earlier on, and she doubted he'd stop being rude to her any time soon.  _Ones, what am I going to do?_

"More or less," Queen Cressika replied, picking up her wine glass.  "We choose one with whom to live the rest of our lives, and to have offspring with, but otherwise, it is not based on the kinds of emotions you Humans seem to need to feel when you take mates or marry, as you call it."

"And mate as in the actions that produce offspring," added the prince sourly.

Bulma blushed. "Oh.  I see.  Thank you for explaining that."  She wasn't sure what to think about that at all.  The Ones had made him wait for her in more ways than one, it would seem.  But he didn't even want her.  She'd never had anyone look at her with such disgust before, except for the Dwarves, and it wasn't like she would have wanted to marry any of **them.  **Oh, well.  At least he hadn't called her strange looking, but his negative reaction to her tempted her to prove to him that she hadn't been courted by over a hundred suitors for nothing.

"Vegeta-son, you should take her to visit the Book now, and then escort her to her rooms to rest when you are finished.  If you have any other questions, Bulma-Human, you may ask my son.  We will see you tomorrow."

It was a definite dismissal by the queen, and Bulma rose to her feet.  _Not much for_ _lengthy after dinner conversations, are they?_  

The prince stood also.  "Hurry, Woman!" he said, opening the door and walking out.

The "Woman" attempted to put lash marks on his back with her angry eyes.  "It's Bulma-the-Beautiful to you, rude boy."

"Hurry, or your name will be of no concern to anyone because you will be dead."

"I think not, because we've already established that if I die, you die.  Hurry, hurry, hurry indeed.  I think that has to be one of the few words in your limited vocabulary, as far as I can tell. You need to learn better manners, because you have **no** idea about how to treat a lady properly."  But she followed him anyway when he snarled at her under his breath, almost getting her hand shut in the door by an overeager guard, who'd rushed to close it before she'd made it completely through.  Imagine owning a magical book written by a mad ghost – she looked forward to seeing it immensely – from a safe distance.

Behind her, the king and queen turned to one another.  "What do you think?" King Vegeta asked of his mate, his face no longer impassive.  "There is too much she still does not know about him.  It will undoubtedly cause problems. And, she is weak, though she appears to have a strong spirit."

The queen's eyes danced. "I think she will do perfectly for him in the end.  There has been a dead place inside Vegeta-son for so long.  I see already that she wakes his interest, though he, being an oblivious type of male at present, much like his father, is not yet aware of it." She smirked at her mate as she said this, knowing he would never let her comment pass him by.  "If we live through the coming of the Greatest Evil, she may give him what he needs most."

"And what is that – sex?"  The king rose from his chair on the opposite side of the table, and stalked over to her.  He loomed above her as he spoke again.  "I see you have chosen to forget that I noticed you first.  When we were children, I knew that you would be the one to give me what I needed most when I came of age.  I was never oblivious to you."

"I see you have also chosen to forget that I noticed you as soon as you noticed me.  So bold, so confident and strong you were at that tournament.  Of course I cannot compare your level of obliviousness to that of our son, can I?  And what is it you needed of me most?  Is it what you need most of me now?"  She raised a hand to caress his arm, smiling with lazy amusement.  "Perhaps a small training session, since Vegeta-son did not see fit to invite me to the earlier melee.  Yes, perhaps that is what you need."

"Training be damned, Sika, what I need now is a second dessert!" said the king with a wicked smile.  And he scooped her from the chair and bore her off to the next room while she laughed uproariously.

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My Dearest Readers, how I have awaited your return to today's Chapter Ending Paragraph.  I am pleased to see that Our Heroine survived her meeting with the terrible Saiyan Trio, but how will she deal with the Book?  Please await further developments with your usual sterling patience, and I shall speak with you again soon.  Happy days and nights!  Yours Broodingly, Timaeus the Glib.

A/N:  Is it just me, or is there a lot of eating going on in this fic so far? ^_~   You know, I thought this story was going to top out at fourteen chapters originally, but it looks like my muses have other ideas, so who knows?  At least I know exactly where it's going, if not exactly how long it'll take to get there.  Not forever, I promise.  ^__^  I'll try to get the next chapter out faster, though.  I should probably take this fic out of the parody category, as it isn't really parodying anything in particular at the moment.  Too bad they don't have a Fantasy Romance with Odd Humor category.  ^_~  As always, thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing!


	11. Ghost in the Book

A/N:  Well, I seem to be back.  ^_^;;;  (knocks on computer desk)  Anyone still with me?  ^_^;;   I'm so sorry about the delay – life really got in the way of writing for a while there again.  I'll make this a short A/N this time, but let me just say many thanks to Renee, bararaven, unsigned, soyamiso, Zel, Viki, and Caralin Fury for the truly spiffy reviews, and I'll see what I can do about putting more humor, cliffhangers (smiles evilly), and smoochies into the next chapters.  Oh, yes, and you've probably figured out by now that there's the usual secondary pairing in this story. (grins)

Prince Quest, a Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter Eleven: Ghost in the Book

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The warmest of hellos to such a charming Audience.  A humble person such as myself does not wish to interrupt your perusal of the Author's latest effort for any longer than I must this evening, so without further ado, please behold the next sequence of events in the further adventures of Bulma-the-Beautiful and Companions.

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Bulma strode down the hall behind the not-so-tall prince, still carrying her knapsack, which she'd completely forgot to take off during dinner, so nervous she'd been.  For a short man, he walked very fast.  Too fast, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of complaining that he was difficult to keep up with.  He'd only spite her and break into a sprint; he was just that type.  She made a determined effort not to look at his backside, but raised her eyes to the small of his back and examined what she could see of his waist-wrapped tail instead.  _I wonder if it's soft, or bristly like a hairbrush?_  _I'd love to find out._

There was a hissing sound from ahead of her. "Woman, would you stop staring at my tail?" the prince demanded.

"How did you know that I was?"  _Please **don't** tell me he can read minds or has hidden eyes in the back of his head._  _That would just be so unfair! _

"I could feel it.  Look at something else instead."  

Bulma drew herself up to her full height, and sniffed at his back. "Prince Vegeta, I am a scientist, in addition to being incredibly lovely and possessed of intelligence beyond your wildest dreams.  You are a member of an alien race.  I have never seen a were-monkey before.  I have an insatiably curious mind.  What do you expect me to do?  I will look at your tail if I want to!"

"You will not."  He circled to the right.  "Walk in front of me instead, or beside me."

Bulma came up next to him. "Oh, very well.  You're not much fun, are you?"  She noticed he had slowed his pace so that they could walk abreast easily.  She was glad, in a sense, because it gave her a chance to track the direction in which they were going in this convoluted palace.  Really, a building that resembled a fat, short-legged octopus shouldn't be so hard to navigate.

"No, I am not 'fun' at all.  Why should I be?"  He stared straight ahead, leaving the Baron's daughter to watch the walls go by or choose to force him to turn back to her. "Turn here," he said as they veered off to the right and arrived at one of the many sets of double doors that existed seemingly everywhere.  This one was made of dark brown wood, with the same crest inset above that could be seen at the entryway to the palace.  The prince pulled on the handles and the doors swung apart.  He went in ahead of Bulma, pausing so that he did not run into the person who was currently occupying the space in which they wanted to be.

Bulma looked up, startled, at another very tall Saiyan.  He had the longest hair she'd ever seen on any man, thigh length, and spiky all the way from top to bottom.  He was quite attractive, also, in the same fierce way the other Saiyans she'd seen were.   

"Radditz," the prince said in dark tones, having noticed Bulma's intrigued expression, "Your long-lost brother Kakarrot has arrived with this Human.  You have my permission to go and meet him, though you will probably be disappointed in him.  He seems to be an idiot."

The tall Saiyan stared at Prince Vegeta with some surprise.  "Kakarrot is here?  Father said he would return someday.  I see…he is one of the Five then.  That I did not expect."  He nodded and stepped around Bulma and into the hall, a sudden, unpleasant smile breaking out on his face.  "I will go, as you have said, and see what he is made of, my Prince."  The doors swung closed behind him.

"You look like a fool," the Saiyan prince told his unwelcome companion.  

"Oh?  And why is that?"

"Are you not supposed to be of comparatively high rank?  You are drooling over a Guard."

"Ewww, you're so tasteless.  I am **not** 'drooling over' him.  I was simply appreciating his musc – his hair.  I didn't come here for him, did I?  I came here for…to see if you were truly eligible."

"If I had been given a choice, I would have mated with one of my race long ago, only because my damned parents would never shut up about the importance of securing the succession if I did not.  I had none.  The Book says that either I take you as a mate, or we will all die.  You heard this a short while ago.  So, I am eligible – but only to you."  

He said those last words with such anger that Bulma recoiled from him.  "I'm so **dreadfully** sorry you feel that way, Prince Vegeta, but I didn't tell the Ones to give you that information, so don't keep complaining about it to me."

The Saiyan's answer was to walk away from her, something the beauty was beginning to become unwillingly used to.  Bulma tossed her hair, and trailed after him, her ponytail bouncing as she stared extra, extra hard at his tail, hoping that he could feel it.  Pretty soon he would be well out of the eligible bachelor category on the Scale, and into "Run from this man fast; he's only fit to live with himself in a cave," territory.  And yet, it didn't matter what he was like. If they survived, they would end up together.  She could see that now.  The Ones advocated free will, but in some cases, as in the heroic tales, Heroes had to bend their wills to deal with certain circumstances.  _I guess that makes me a Hero before I've even done anything heroic.  What a strange thought.  Well, I never asked for it.  All I wanted was to be acknowledged for my superior beauty and genius, to achieve great scientific breakthroughs, and, of equal or greater importance, to have a family.  What sort of a family could I have with someone like him?  _She suddenly realized she had been so deep in thought that they had gone down the hall to its very end without her having noticed a single thing about her present surroundings.  The prince had not complained about her intrusive gaze, either, surprisingly enough.  One of the omnipresent Guards stood by the door, her face inscrutable, though just for an instant, open fascination flashed across her dark features.  She bowed quickly, and drew the doors open for the arriving pair.

"Go," said the prince.

 Bulma went by him, making sure to take her time, and stepped into the room.  It was very gloomy inside, and the only light was that which reached inward from the hall.  "Candles or electricity, don't you have any?"

"Of course." But he shut the doors behind him, and left them both in the dark.

"Ahem."

Prince Vegeta started laughing in a most unpleasant manner.  "Can you not see?"  

"And you can?"  

"I can see well enough, but if you insist, I will give you some light so that your feeble eyes can see the Book, and then you can remove yourself from my chambers shortly thereafter."  

Bulma didn't hear him moving, but the room was suddenly flooded with red light.  "Your chambers?  I can't be in your chambers.  That's completely inappropriate."

"You have nothing to worry about.  This is only an outer room.  I use it as what you Earth people would refer to as a study."

Gazing around the room, Bulma immediately fixated on the large table with the hefty book that rested there.  "Oh!" she exclaimed, moving nearer.  "Say, is it not possible to get some better light in here?"

The prince snorted.  "You want paler light?  Very well."  He turned the dial on the wall near her a notch to the right, and the young woman's request was granted.

"Thank you.  May I look at the Book?"

"Why in the hell else would I have brought you here?  Sit down and open it to any page.  It does not matter which one, for your answer will be there."

"I see. This should be interesting."  Bulma sat in the chair nearest the Book, and gingerly opened it to what turned out to be page 369.  She didn't know what she should expect, but the ornate script wasn't a surprise in an ancient book.

Once upon a time

There was a girl who wanted to marry a prince

But the prince was flawed and angry

So the girl thought she should go home

But she knew she must stay

For the good of the world

~Welcome, Bulma-the-Beautiful Briefs.~

"It talks!  I mean, it writes!  And it knows my name!  Amazing." Bulma turned to the prince, who was standing a few feet from the table, arms crossed over his chest, her eyes round and wondering.

He sneered at her.  "Consider yourself fortunate, for he appears to 'speak' but rarely."

Bulma turned back to the table.  "Um.  Hello, Book."

~You may call me Cilly, if you like.~

"Silly?  Oh.  That's your name?"  

~A pet name, as it were.  My name is Cillantro-Jicama, the Mad Prophet of Vegetasei.~

"I thought mad people didn't know they were mad."

~Dead mad people do.~

"Oh."  _I'm saying 'Oh' much too much here._

_~_I suppose you would like to know why you were brought to the prince's chambers.~

"Well, yes, I would."  Bulma was feeling rather uncomfortable in a closed room with an attractive man who wasn't a member of her family, and who would be impossible to flirt with due to his pathetically bad attitude, so she was happy to have this 'conversation' hastened.

~I render advice to those of the royal family who need it.  Sometimes they even listen to me.  My advice to you, Honorable Crumpet, is that you will need to make a great change in yourself soon.  Be prepared for it, but do not be afraid.  I will speak with you more in the coming days, for I know you are tired, but this information you needed to know.~

"A great change?  What kind of change?  And what's a crumpet?"  

~Just be prepared~

Page 369 went blank before Bulma's eyes.  She gasped.  "The writing's gone."

Prince Vegeta yawned.  "And, now, so are you.  I will have a servant show you to your room.  I have better things to do with my time at the moment."

"Such as?"

"Such as resume my training, so that the Greatest Evil does not overwhelm us as soon as he arrives."

Bulma closed the book and stood up.  "Fine.  I can't believe I was dragged all the way here for one paragraph, and now I get thrown out, summarily, by someone who doesn't know how to behave in company.  Now, do you know what a crumpet is?"

The prince shook his head.  "I do not. The mad prophet speaks strangely.  It is probably some type of armor.  He spoke to me of doubloons, but there is no such word in our language or in Common Standard."

"He compared **me **to armor?  Hmph.  It can't be that.  Mayhap it's some kind of gorgeous, night-blooming flower."

Prince Vegeta shrugged, and pressed a button on the wall on what Bulma now saw to be a complex intercommunications network.  "Send someone to show the Blue-Haired Woman to an appropriate suite in Wing One."

Barely a minute later, while the reluctant pair was staring anywhere but at one another, there was a knock on the door.  "Enter, damn you!" growled the royal Saiyan.

The door opened slightly, and a non-Saiyan face peered around it.  Bulma recognized the ruffled hair and whiskers of a Darydican, one of the catlike creatures who lived on an island to the south.  She had never seen one before save on A-22 Vid Vision's travel channel.  Maybe she'd be able to talk to her or him later.  

Bulma glowered at the prince.  "I've basically said this before, and you'll definitely hear it from me again, because you deserve it, but you're nearly the rudest man I've ever met.  If I'm going to stay here for a while, I will have to teach you some better ways to go on.  Good night!"  She left, hearing him call her a bossy serving wench as she went, and not much caring.  She would be glad to rest for a chance, and think on the events of the busy day.  Besides, she'd get him back for it sometime; she wasn't a member of the high-achieving Briefs family for nothing.

***  ****  ****

While Bulma was eating and receiving her cryptic message from the Book of Prophecies, Possibilities, and Ponderous Utterances, Goku and Bardock had gone to the kitchens, which were on the first and second floor of the main building.  Goku had learned what his father knew of the Prophecy, and had prepared himself in his own mind to fight this new enemy.  After all, he was pretty strong, and he wouldn't back down from a battle like this one under any circumstances.  He could care less about the Saiyans at this point in time; they sounded like they had lived to kill in the past, but Bardock had said they would train with him, and he looked forward to sparring with fighters of his own ability or higher.  He would improve much faster that way, and they could always learn to be better people.

Upon entering the huge open room, with stoves and contrivances the like of which he had never seen in all his life, Goku's stomach immediately growled.  He looked around, but saw no sign of Chi-Chi.  Then he heard her voice coming from the upper floor, which he saw could be reached by a staircase at the back of the room.  She was telling someone to hurry up and take a meal to Wing Seven.  His heartbeat sped up a little.  _My bossy Chi-Chi.  She hasn't changed.  Of course, it's only been a few days, so I guess she wouldn't, really.  I hope she isn't still mad at me.   _He went to the staircase.

"Chi-Chi!" he called.  Two startled faces appeared at the top of the stairs.  One was that of his wife, and the other was a person who looked a lot like a walking rat.

"Goku?  Goku!" the black-haired woman said, first with the sound of disbelief coloring her voice, then with excitement.  "Hurry up," she repeated to the rat person, and started down the stairs.  

Goku bounded up them and met her halfway.  "Chi-Chi."

"Oh, Goku…wait a minute, how did you find me here?"  

She turned her face up to his, and the young man from Spargate felt a strange, painful tightening in his throat.  Maybe he should have eaten first, he thought, for look what happened to him when he didn't get enough food.  "I followed your smell…your scent.  Remember how I always told you how good you smelled?  That's how I found you.  I met some new friends along the way, and it turned out one of them was coming here too, so we made to Vegetable in a less than a day.  Chi-Chi, why'd you leave?"

"I remember."  Suddenly his wife's eyes were awash in tears, which made him cringe.  Usually after the tears came the yelling, and if she was really mad, the flying frying pan attack. "Goku, I didn't think you would even try to find us.  I love you, and I've had such a lot of patience with you all this time we've been wed, but this time I felt I **had** to leave.  If I didn't, it was like the whole world would come to an end."

Goku nodded, understanding crashing over him like a troll's fist into bread. "I know what you mean, and it's okay.  It's all part of some prophecy.  My father told me about it.  He's right here…"  He realized Bardock wasn't next to him any longer, but was watching them from the floor below while leaning against one of the counters, munching on a small cake of some sort.  "Hey, do you want to meet him?"

"Your **father**?" 

"Uh huh.  I'm a Saiyan just like all the people here, though I'll always be a Human in my heart.  I came from some place called Vegetasei before Grandpa found me.  That makes Gohan half-Saiyan, and that's why we were born with tails."

"I thought you looked a whole lot like them, and you do look just like him, only," Chi-Chi's voice lowered to a whisper for the next word, "handsomer, but I don't see most of them up close.  We've only been here a couple of days.  Gohan and I were lucky like you, and we got a ride most of the way from an old couple who were visiting their daughter in Blue-Silver-Red.  We walked the last few miles ourselves."

"I still don't understand how you knew to come here," Goku said, scratching his head.  

"I saw an advertisement in the _Cooking for Large Appetites_ monthly, and suddenly I knew I had to go, especially after you left for that tournament.  You can't be gone all the time, and fighting all the time.  You know that."

"Sorry, Chi-Chi, but you yelled at me when I didn't work, and at least I made enough money to keep us for a couple of years.  Fighting's in my blood, and now I know why."

His wife sighed, and then her arms went around him.  "Now I know why, too.  I've seen the Saiyans training. You're an alien, and who'd have imagined it?"

Goku hugged her back, glad for the strength provided by her half-Demon blood, so he didn't have to be so careful with her.  "You'll stay here with me?  I've got to help the Saiyans defeat some kind of Greatest Evil, but we could go back home after that."

"I'll stay.  I like this work. I've already had compliments on my cooking from the Royal Family, isn't that great?"

"Yeah, it is."  The young man rubbed his stomach.  "Nobody cooks better than you do!  So, where's my Gohan?"

"He's upstairs.  We have two rooms off the kitchen.  And he's reading his books, like the good boy he is.  Oh, and Goku?  Nobody here knows he has a tail unless you told your father…I had him hide it when we were traveling, so we wouldn't attract any attention, and he hasn't been out of our room much.  But your father might be pleased to know he has a grandson as wonderful as Gohan."

Goku stepped away from his wife, and looked to Bardock, who was now eating a leg of some huge, unidentified animal.  Obviously the older Saiyan read what was in his eyes, for he swallowed the last of his meal, and set the bones down on a plate that lay on the counter beside him.  Then he came over to join the pair on the stairs.  "Father, this is my wife, Chi-Chi.  Chi-Chi, this is my father, Bardock."

Bardock nodded curtly, and Chi-Chi said, "Pleased to meet you," with a wary smile.  Goku asked his newly acquired parent if he wanted to meet Gohan.  Upon his receipt of a grudging but positive response, he, his wife, and his father started up the stairs.

"Wait!"

Goku angled his head to the side and saw a tall, long-maned Saiyan approaching them.  

"So, I hear that I have a tailless younger brother.  I'm Radditz."

"You don't look much like me," Goku said abruptly, eyeing the newcomer, and wishing they'd all shut the hell up about his tail.

"He favors my mate, your mother, Shiriuma," Bardock put in.  "Come, Radditz.  You can meet Kakarrot's whelp with us, and then we'll all get something to eat.  I'll page Shiriuma when we get upstairs so we can cover the initial boring, time-wasting meeting of the reunited family all at once."

Goku's eyes narrowed.  Bardock seemed just like the rest of the Saiyans he'd met so far, outwardly unconcerned with the bonds of blood.  All the man seemed to care about was whether or not he was a good fighter.  Oh, well, he couldn't be expected to be a loving father at first sight, or probably tenth sight either.  And as for himself, he'd prove his strength to his parents and see what happened after that.  If it came down to that they didn't give a damn about him, well, that wasn't the main reason he'd come to the palace.  One of the main reasons was standing right before him, and the other was at the top of the stairs.

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We have arrived at the end of another chapter, my dear Audience, and I thank you for listening so intently to this tale.  What shall befall the Blue-Haired Beauty next?  I should think it would be sleep, but one never knows.  I wonder what she's wearing right now…ahem, never mind what I just said, Gentlefolk.  Certainly we can expect that she will have further encounters with her Handsome Prince, sad as that fact may be to Yours Truly. Until we meet again, may sunflowers grow tall in your gardens, and all who cross your paths speak kindly to you.  Good night, Timaeus Glib, long-suffering Narrator.

A/N:  Thanks for reading! ^_^


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